


I'll Be A Thorn In Your Side (Till You Die)

by Kapua



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Romance, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:55:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 34,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24998662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kapua/pseuds/Kapua
Summary: Diverges from canon starting in Rinde, but keeps as much lore as possible.When the letter comes that Tissaia is dead, Yennefer doesn't know what to think. But when she finds out the other woman might still be alive, she can't turn away from the chance to find her.They'll have to overcome their rocky history if they want to avert the dangerous forces scheming against them. But in the process, they may uncover more to their relationship than they bargained for...
Relationships: Tissaia de Vries/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 116
Kudos: 247





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> To be clear: Tissaia is not dead. Have no fear, there are no dead gays allowed in my fics (unless they are going to be resuscitated). I'm thinking this will be four chapters. Slow burn with eventual smut in the last bit.
> 
> Full disclaimer I have gleaned all knowledge of the Witcher world from the show and lots of extensive googling/time on the Witcher wiki. Please forgive any inaccuracies and just pretend it's creative license.

The day the news comes starts out like any other. She fixes a few minor ailments for assorted villagers and enlists several others to entertain her whims. Rinde has been a fine enough landing spot since she left Aedirn. It's not the glamorous life she expected to lead, but it's still better than being kept on a tight leash by an incompetent king. At least now she can make her own decisions without having to worry about playing the role of simpering advisor.

A messenger comes riding into town in the early evening hours and makes a beeline for the mansion she's commandeered. That's unusual in and of itself, but she starts when she sees the crest of Ban Ard on his tunic. Her defenses are up when he strides into the room, but he's harmless—not an ounce of chaos to him. She doesn't know whether to be relieved or insulted.

The messenger gives her a letter and doesn't bother waiting around for her to read it. She waits until he's gone before she slides a finger under the flap to break the red wax seal bearing Stregobor's insignia. 

There's a single piece of parchment inside, and she unfolds it somewhat carelessly. Whatever Stregobor felt the need to send her holds little more than a passing interest.

All of that changes the second she reads the opening line. 

_ Archmistress Tissaia de Vries, Rectoress of Aretuza, is dead. _

The world spins around her and Yennefer sinks down onto the edge of the nearby bed. For a brief moment she thinks she must have hallucinated the words. 

There is no way that Tissaia is dead. She can't be. She's like the mountains or the ocean, something that just  _ is _ , ancient and unyielding and alive. It has never once crossed Yennefer's mind that there could ever be a day where the Rectoress wouldn't be there.

Alas, when she dares to look at the parchment again the words are still there, inked in a slanted script. Emotion bubbles up in her chest and she can't even begin to pick apart the individual feelings. There's rage, and frustration, and resentment—but also grief, and longing, and something too amorphous to name. It's a confusing, chaotic mess and she absolutely does not have the capacity to deal with any of it.

She forces herself to read further down the parchment, knowing that there must be a reason for the missive besides merely informing her of Tissaia's death. 

_ With her passing, Stregobor shall take her place as the fifth member of the Chapter. All mages who are not currently on a sanctioned assignment are instructed to report to Ban Ard within a fortnight. Refusal to do so shall be met with harsh consequences.  _

She skims the rest after that paragraph but there's nothing else of substance. A frown settles on her brow as she takes in the new development. If Stregobor has ascended to the higher chamber, there will be no one to hold him in check with Tissaia gone. And if she refuses to bend to this new edict—and she will, of course, she has no intention of prostrating herself before Stregobor and pleading for mercy—there will be a target on her back. No more freedom to do as she pleases, and no real way to fight against the might of a Brotherhood under Stregobor's thumb.

The severity of the situation is just beginning to sink in when a flare of chaos alerts her that a portal is being opened into the mansion. Her first thought is that they've decided not to wait for the fortnight to pass and are going to kill her now and be done with it, and she readies herself to fight. She will not go quietly. But when the portal opens someone quite unexpected walks through it and into the room.

"Portalling straight into my bedchambers? Your manners have deteriorated, Triss." Yennefer relaxes back on the bed and the other sorceress rolls her eyes.

"Hello to you too, Yennefer." They've crossed paths many times over the years and have always had an amicable relationship. But Yennefer already knows there is more to this visit than a simple social call. The timing is far too convenient for anything else.

"I see you've received Stregobor's letter?" Triss tilts her chin at the parchment resting next to Yennefer on the mattress.

"Indeed. Hand delivered not ten minutes before you arrived," Yennefer scoffs. "Why are you here?"

Triss hesitates and Yennefer's interest is piqued. She wonders if this might be related to a long-ago favor she owed Triss for healing her after an unfortunate run-in with an assassin. It feels odd, but that's the only reason she can think of that Triss would come to see her in person, especially now.

"Tissaia asked me to come."

Yennefer blinks at Triss in confusion. She can think of literally no reason why Tissaia would have told Triss to come here. Plus—

"Isn't she dead?" It's a stupid thing to ask. Of course Tissaia is dead or Stregobor wouldn't be going off on a power trip sending threatening letters, but she thinks she can be forgiven. Her world has changed rather drastically in a very short span of time, after all. 

As it turns out, though, it's exactly the right thing to ask, because instead of a simple 'yes,' Triss scans the room with a critical eye.

"Are we able to speak freely here?"

"Of course. I set the wards myself." Yennefer sits up straight, waiting to see where this could possibly be going.

"I don't think Tissaia is really dead." The words tumble out of Triss in a rush and Yennefer stares at her open-mouthed.

"So she what? Faked her death and was so good that she managed to fool some of the most powerful mages on the continent?"

Triss nods. Yennefer would laugh and assume this was a bad joke in horrible taste if it weren't for the serious look on the other mage's face.

"She...well, it's complicated. A lot has happened since you left," Triss says. 

There's no trace of rebuke in her voice, and that's the only thing that lets Yennefer set aside her pride to reply, "Give me the short version."

"Stregobor has been trying to assassinate Tissaia for the last year."

It's blunt, and even though she asked for the short version that's maybe a little too succinct. 

"Why would he do that? Tissaia could have killed him in a heartbeat."

"But she wouldn't," Triss says, shaking her head. "Not if it meant throwing the continent into turmoil. He's been plotting her demise for the better part of the last two centuries, but he's been smart about it. I begged her to kill him too many times to count, trust me, but she refused. Said he had too many allies and it would mean all-out war, and she wasn't willing to risk innocent lives."

"Since when did the great Tissaia de Vries care about ruining innocent lives?" The barb is out before she can stop it, but she only regrets it a little. She can still remember all too well looking into the pool at Aretuza and seeing the countless eels swimming in the iridescent waters. What had those girls been, if not innocent lives?

But Triss is giving her a sad, reproachful look that makes Yennefer feel as if she's done something wrong. She meets the other woman's brown eyes and doesn't try to take back the comment. Triss looks away first with a sigh. She sounds exhausted when she speaks.

"You knew a part of Tissaia, Yennefer. Not the whole. I won't tell you your feelings aren't justified, but I would ask you to trust my judgment when I tell you that she was more than the woman you saw at Aretuza."

Yennefer rolls her eyes but bites her tongue. 

There are too many retorts on her lips to choose from anyways. Things like:  _ A part of her was more than enough to tell me all I needed to know.  _

Or:  _ How did you become so wise to the whole of Tissaia?  _

And perhaps the most painful one of all:  _ If she was more than what she showed at Aretuza, then why did she never seek me out after I left? _

This conversation is dredging up more of the emotions she'd felt when she first read the missive and she's tired of it. She just wants to be done with it all and figure out what to do about her life now that Stregobor is in power.

"You still haven't explained why you think Tissaia isn't dead. And why you're here." She gives Triss a pointed look that clearly says  _ hurry up, my patience is wearing thin. _

"Well, they go somewhat hand in hand. A few months ago, she made me swear to her that if something happened to her that I would come find you. And she gave me something to deliver to you when I did."

Triss reaches into her pocket and pulls out a small stone. It's a deep forest green with smooth edges. It fits neatly in the palm of her hand as Triss gives it to her.

"What is it?"

"She didn't say. Just told me I needed to give it to you when she died."

The phrasing catches Yennefer's attention and she looks closely at Triss.

"When?"

The other mage nods. "Yes. When, not if. That's why I'm not convinced she's really dead. Why else would she say that? Tissaia was never one to be unnecessarily fatalistic."

"But why give it to me?" Yennefer murmurs, half to herself. It doesn't quite make sense, there's something she's still missing—

"I think she meant for you to find her," Triss says. "Wherever she is. I think that's why she sent me to you with that stone. She knew something like this would happen, and she wanted you to come after her."

"But why? Tissaia hates me," Yennefer protests. She doesn't bother saying aloud that the feeling is mutual. It's not secret that there was tension between them, and she genuinely can't comprehend why Tissaia would want her to do this task and not someone— _ anyone _ —else. 

Triss shrugs. "I'm sure she had her reasons." She meets Yennefer's eyes and holds her gaze unflinchingly. "Will you do it?"

Myriad emotions flicker through Yennefer. Her immediate gut reaction is to laugh in Triss’s face and say no. Why would she undertake a mission that's likely to be incredibly dangerous for a woman who hates her? It would be stupid and she rails against the notion that she would acquiesce to Tissaia's requests so easily after all these years. 

But there's a part of her, buried deep down within herself, that desperately wants to believe that Tissaia is still alive. It's a way to avoid having to deal with the pesky feelings that arose when she read the letter—if the other woman is alive, she can stuff whatever feelings are there into a box inside of herself to permanently ignore far more easily. 

She can't say that, of course, and certainly not to Triss. She has a reputation to uphold, after all. It wouldn't do for anyone to think she doesn't still hate the Rectoress. Luckily there's an easy solution that allows her to say yes and sidestep any personal feelings she might have.

"I'll do it." She holds up a hand to stop Triss from speaking. "But  _ only _ because my life is going to be a living hell is Stregobor stays in power. That is the only reason I'm going to look for Tissaia. Once I find her and drag her back to fix this mess, then I can go back to living my life free of the Brotherhood, and free of her."

Triss presses her lips together but it's not quite enough to fully hide her smile. Yennefer gets the distinct impression that her performance might not have been fully convincing, but thankfully Triss doesn't push the matter.

"So, since you were apparently Tissaia's confidant, where should I start my search?"

"How should I know?" Triss says. "I figured you would have an idea."

Yennefer scowls. This is already turning into a headache. She doesn't know why she expected anything different from something connected with Tissaia.

"Fine. Anything else?"

Triss shakes her head. "No. But if I were you, I'd try to find her before the fortnight is up. I imagine things will get substantially more difficult after that." 

What she really means is  _ Stregobor will send assassins to bring him your head on a platter _ , but Yennefer appreciates the tact.

"I'll be in Aretuza if you need me," she continues. "King Foltest agreed that I could stay there until the transition is complete."

Yennefer nods, but she has no intention of going anywhere near Aretuza. This whole thing is bringing up plenty of painful memories as it is without opening that particular wound.

Triss opens a portal and casts a look over her shoulder before stepping through.

"And Yennefer? Be careful. Something strange is afoot, and I don't want you to be caught in the crossfire."

Yennefer resists the urge to say that she's more or less been shoved into the crossfire due to their conversation, knowing it's not Triss’s fault. The curly-haired mage disappears and the portal closes with a snap. Yennefer looks around the room, her brain already trying to make a list of the things she might need. She doesn't even know where she's going yet, which makes it hard to plan, and she flops back on the bed with a groan. 

_ Fucking Tissaia and her mysteries. _

She shoves herself to her feet after a second and starts throwing clothes into a pack. With any luck she'll find the other woman quickly, and she's rather looking forward to wringing her neck when she does.

###

"Where the fuck am I supposed to start?"

The question is a low growl as Yennefer paces her room. Morning light streams through the window and she's frustrated almost beyond words that she hasn't been able to  _ do _ anything yet. She gathered the supplies that she needed, but for all her thinking she still doesn't know where to begin searching for Tissaia.

She'd tried to think of whether there was anywhere that might have some significance for the Rectoress, but she'd quickly given up that line of thinking when she realized that she knew precious little about Tissaia's life. Aretuza and the older woman's role there was more or less the sum total of her knowledge, and since she was obviously not hiding in Aretuza with Triss that left no other easy options.

She traces the labyrinth painting that hangs on the wall, her finger gliding along the pathway. A burst of inspiration strikes as her eyes follow the pattern. She might not know much about Tissaia's life, but maybe she doesn't need to. The other woman wouldn't expect her to know those things. What she  _ would _ expect is for Yennefer to be able to trace the beginning of their relationship.

Her finger drifts from the labyrinth to the map of the continent that hangs beside it. Her nail comes to a stop when it rests on the little village labeled "Vengerberg." That was where they began, and perhaps that's where she needs to begin now. She doesn't fancy the idea of going back to the pigsty where the Rectoress bought her, but she doesn't have any better leads at the moment and she's going stir crazy without any direction. It's as good a place to start as any, and she grabs her pack and conjures a portal. 

When she steps through the other side, she nearly coughs on the thick scent of livestock that hangs in the air. There aren't any villagers around, which she's grateful for. The last thing she needs is a throng of idiots clamoring for her to fix their bunions or whatever other inane issues they think she cares about.

She crosses the village on foot, making a beeline for the house where she spent the first years of her life. When she gets there she isn't sure whether to be pleased or saddened that the property is abandoned and fallen into disrepair. 

Part of her was vindictively hoping her father would still be there and she could give him a proper "fuck you" for selling her like that all those years ago. It's stupid, she knows her parents probably died twenty years ago at least, but it takes her a moment to shake off the ghosts that linger in the collapsed buildings.

The fence to the pigsty is still standing—or at least leaning. Several of the posts have rotted and fallen over, but she can see the clear perimeter of the pen nonetheless.

She lets her fingers graze the coarse wood as she walks around the fence. The memories are coming fast and furious now, and she's so caught up in them that she almost misses it: a knot in the wood that's unfamiliar. 

She stoops to examine it more closely and runs her fingertips across it. It's not large, barely half the size of her palm, but it's decidedly not supposed to be there. She'd spent too many hours to count in her youth staring at every single plank of wood in the pen, and she'd memorized each whorl and design in the grain. 

There's always the possibility that someone replaced the post at some point, but no—she looks lower and there's a coin-sized dent a few centimetres above where the post enters the earth. Her father had drunkenly tried to kick her and she'd rolled away, leaving his boot to connect with the post instead of her head. He'd raged the rest of the night, but that dent in the post had always brought her a certain degree of satisfaction for the rest of her time there.

So, clearly it's the same post. Which means the knot is new, even though that makes no sense.

She can't decide whether she's irritated or impressed when she presses along the edge of the knot and it raises slightly. It pulls away with some effort to reveal a cache carved into the wooden post. There's no trace of magic, so Tissaia must have done this the old-fashioned way—assuming it was her.

It's a silly thought. Yennefer  _ knows _ this is Tissaia's doing. Who else would put so much effort into something like this in a pig pen? She doesn't even have to see what's tucked in the post to know that it's bound to be something from the older mage.

Her fingertips dig inside the cache and brush against a bit of parchment. She pulls it out, hoping it will finally give her some answers about what the hell is happening, and she's promptly disappointed when she sees a single word etched on the paper.

_ Flotsam. _

It's a small village on the border between Aedirn and Temeria. Half the major trade routes between the regions converge there, but she's never had occasion to visit. What she's heard is that it's not the friendliest of places, and there's also a bit of a problem with Scoia'tael units attacking anyone who strays too far from the ferried river crossings. 

She sighs. Of fucking course Tissaia would send her into hostile territory. She flips the paper over and what she assumes is a name is scrawled there:  _ Vele Ruget.  _ Nothing else. No clues as to who the person might be, or why she needs to go to Flotsam, of all places. 

"You couldn't fucking throw me a bone, could you," she mutters, frustration swelling in her. She starts to open a portal but something makes her hesitate before she finishes conjuring it. There's a thought nagging at the edges of her brain, just out of reach, but she knows it's important.

She glances back at the cache in the post and wonders why Tissaia wouldn't use magic to create it—or to hide it, for that matter. And then she remembers what Triss had said—that Stregobor has been trying to kill Tissaia for some time. She was too smart to leave a magical trail that would lead them right to her, assuming that was what her goal was with this whole endeavor. Which was great, but...

Yennefer groans. If it was that important for Tissaia not to leave magical traces, then that meant no portals from here on out. Her mood grows darker as she does some hasty mental calculations to determine how long of a ride it would be to get to Flotsam from her current location. If she finds a good horse, maybe two days if she doesn't stop to rest. More, if she gets stuck with an old nag.

She shoves the knot back into place in the post, just in case, and stomps off towards the village to look for a mount.

###

"Finally."

Her horse's ears swivel back when she speaks, but the animal doesn't break its trot. She hadn't managed to procure the quality of horse she would have preferred, but the grey she was on had been sufficient to get her to Flotsam in just over two days. 

Still, after the luxury she'd become accustomed to in Rinde, two days on the back of a horse felt like some sort of torture. Her thighs ached, her lower back twinged with every step the horse took, and she was fairly certain that her calves were rubbed raw from jostling. She prays that whoever this Vele Ruget is will have a soft bed and a hearty meal when she finds them.

A prickle runs down the back of her neck and she glances over her shoulder before urging her mount into a canter. She'd managed to avoid any Scoia'tael patrols along the way, but she can feel them not far away. She has no desire to cross paths with them if she doesn't have to.

The village rises in front of her and she breathes a sigh of relief as they pass the guard house on the perimeter. She flexes her fingers on the reins and the horse slows to a walk, giving her time to scan the village for signs of someone who might be of use to her.

Her eyes land on an innkeeper standing by the front door of his establishment. He looks to be mostly sober, but perhaps just intoxicated enough to be talkative. She dismounts when she's a few paces away and leads her horse the rest of the way. 

"Can I help you, young miss?"

His grin isn't lecherous, but she's still unimpressed. She loops the reins around a nearby post and decides it's not worth it to pretend to be interested in him. A little terror never hurts when it comes to getting information sooner rather than later.

"I need to find Vele Ruget."

He stares at her, his head tilted to the side in confusion.

"I'm afraid you might be out of luck," he says, shifting awkwardly on his feet.

"And why's that?" she snaps, taking some enjoyment from the way he flinches back at her tone.

"Well, because he was killed by the Scoia'tael not three moons ago," he stammers. "The fool went into the forest alone after imbibing in too much drink. The guards found what was left of him scattered along the forest boundary the next morning."

Yennefer almost growls at the man but contains her anger. 

"You have food and drink inside?"

He nods, not daring a verbal response, and she shoulders past him. "Take care of my mount, I'll be here for a bit."

The inside of the inn is dimly lit, and she steps up to the bar and promptly signals for an ale. When the servant brings it, he asks, "Supper as well?" Yennefer nods and sets a few coins on the counter. The boy scurries off and she takes a long swig of the ale. 

Nothing is ever easy. She makes it to this godsforsaken village only to find that the man she's come for apparently fancied a midnight stroll with the Scoia'tael. Why would Tissaia send her to find someone so idiotic?

The servant boy almost flings stew all over her in his haste to set the bowl down, and she waves him away so that she can eat in peace and try to figure out what to do next. There are precious few hours of daylight left, so she may be stuck at this backwoods inn until the morning if she doesn't think of anything else. 

She's halfway through calling Tissaia every swear word she can think of what a question occurs to her. The innkeeper said Vele Ruget was killed three months ago, give or take. That's well before Tissaia disappeared. There's no way the Rectoress didn't know he was dead in the lead up to whatever it is that happened to her. So why would she still send Yennefer to look for him?

It hits her and she barely restrains herself from banging her head on the table in front of her. It's idiocy. Mages are not friendly with the Scoia'tael. They're unpredictable at best, twisted by years of fighting with the humans. She hears that most of them are elves, with a few dwarves for good measure, but she's never met them to find out for sure.

_ Well, that's about to change,  _ she thinks grimly. Because that's the only reason why Tissaia would give her the name of a dead man who was killed by the Scoia'tael. She was never meant to find him; she was meant to find his killers.

###

Her fingers play over the green jasper that's tucked in her pocket as she walks silently across the forest floor. It's unnaturally quiet around her, and she can feel unseen eyes watching her. The air is heavy and dark. It was dusk when she set out from the village, and inside the heavy canopy of the trees there’s not even the light of the moon.

A twig cracks somewhere off to her right and she throws up a shield on instinct. It turns out to be a pretty good idea as six arrows bounce off of it a split second later.

"Wait!" she calls, holding the shield charm in place. "I'm not here to fight! I need to speak with you!"

There's no response, and she wonders if they've even heard her. The stone in her pocket feels heavier all of a sudden, and she grasps it and holds it out so it can be clearly seen.

"That is not a trinket one comes by casually."

The voice startles her enough that she almost drops her shield. A tall elf with light brown hair and a moss green tunic steps out from behind the trees and approaches her.

"I didn't come by it," she retorts. "It was given to me."

"By who, if I may ask?"

"Tissaia de Vries."

The name clearly means something to the elf. He looks at her thoughtfully before snapping his fingers. Four other elves are suddenly flanking her, but their weapons are lowered.

"You'd best come with me, then, and we can talk."

Yennefer hesitates. She doesn't make a habit of willingly going off with armed units, particularly when they're elves, but she doesn't see a way to politely decline. And besides, this is likely what Tissaia sent her here for in the first place.

She drops her shield and the elf in front of her nods approvingly. He turns on his heel and cuts a path deeper into the forest and she follows wordlessly. The trees grow denser, and a few times she thinks she catches the glint of eyes watching from the brush, but nothing happens. She's very much aware of the elves at her back. They may be content to let her enter since she's accompanied by the elf in front, but she worries that they might not be so inclined to let her leave. 

The stone in her hand warms to the touch, and she hopes that it's a sign that she's not going to end up scattered across the village's doorstep in multiple pieces. That would be a rather disappointing end to her life after all that she's been through.

She hastens her steps as the elf cuts diagonally in a different direction. He hasn't looked back at her once, and she is close to calling out to him to ask where they're going when they suddenly break through into a small clearing. She looks around and can't help but be a little impressed. 

Small huts are built in the trees, with rope bridges connecting them in the air. If someone didn't know exactly where to go and what to look for, they would be hard pressed to spot them tucked away in the dense foliage. There are spots where the faint torchlight glimmers and she realizes that there are stones like the one in her hand embedded in the wood and trees.

The elf motions for her to follow him as he climbs a ladder up into one of the huts. She tests the ladder a little skeptically before trusting her full weight to it, unused to being off the ground in such a way. It sways disconcertingly but seems otherwise sound, so she scales it with somewhat less grace than she would prefer. 

The ladder ends on a small platform made of rough wood that leads up to the hut's door. She imagines it's the equivalent of a front stoop for houses that are built on the ground, and the elf opens the door and steps through. It's not in her nature to follow so much and with so little protest, but Yennefer swallows her objections down and enters the hut, taking a seat at the table when the elf motions for her to sit. 

He prepares two cups of a pungent tea and then sits down across from her, sliding her one of the cups.

"So tell me," he says, "How do you know Tissaia de Vries, and how did you come to be here?"

It's a tricky question. How can she possibly sum up her relationship to Tissaia in a few sentences? There are decades of complexity layered in their every interaction, and she doesn't know that she could define their relationship even to herself. Anything she says now is made more complicated by the fact that she doesn't know what connection these elves have to Tissaia. They obviously know her, but do they like her? Or are they merely pretending niceties to lull her into a sense of false security?

As the seconds stretch into minutes, she drums her nails on the table before sighing and opting for the truth. "It's complicated. I knew her from Aretuza, but I haven't seen her in a long time. Years." There's a thread of unintended sadness in the latter part of her response that she shakes off. No use getting sentimental.

"And why are you here?"

"I think she meant for me to come here," Yennefer says slowly. "I don't know why, or for what purpose. But something has happened and I'm trying to find out the truth of things."

"The truth of things," the elf repeats with a small smile. "I think you'll find the truth to be a fickle and elusive thing, my good sorceress, especially this far from the hallowed halls of your kind."

Yennefer doesn't say anything in response, just waits to see if he'll offer any other information. He stares at her searchingly before nodding once to himself and murmuring, "Yes, yes I can see it."

"I am Tova," he continues more briskly. "I lead the Scoia'tael units in this area. Tissaia informed me some months ago that there might come a time when she would need to send someone to us for information and support."

"Information and support about what?"

He ignores the interruption. "She left me instructions to pass along the name of a town in Kovir: Inis Porhoet. That is where you are to travel to."

Yennefer's eyebrows raise. Inis Porhoet is the far northwestern tip of the continent. There's not much that can survive the climate there, and she can't fathom what Tissaia could possibly want from sending her there.

"Did she say why?"

Tova shakes his head. "No. Merely that haste is of the utmost importance."

She scoffs. There's no way to hurry to Inis Porhoet if she can't portal. And she doesn't think her current horse will be able to survive the journey, either. 

As if he knows her thoughts, Tova waves a hand at a pile of items in the corner of the hut. "I have prepared the supplies you might find useful. We also took the liberty of procuring you a more suitable mount for the next stage of your journey."

Yennefer's eyes narrow.

"So I was right not to use chaos and portal." It's the only explanation for the Scoia'tael already knowing that she can't—or won't—just portal herself to Inis Porhoet. Tova shrugs. 

"You certainly can. But it will make it far easier for the assassins on your tail to catch you."

"What assassins?"

He stands up and walks out of the hut, pointing down to the center of the clearing. Two men are kneeling there, bound and unconscious, but even from a distance Yennefer can feel that they're mages. Their clothing identifies them as being part of the Brotherhood, and she looks to Tova.

"Where?"

"A few hours behind you. They put up quite the fight when they ran into us as they tried to follow you into the forest." A twisted smile curves his lips as he looks down at their prone forms. "I thought you might like to see the evidence that you're being tracked before we dispose of them."

Yennefer stays quiet, thinking hard. Stregobor must suspect something if he's sent mages to kill her. She'd thought it would be enough to not use portals, but clearly she underestimated how interested he is in her. She wonders if he suspects that Tissaia might still be alive, or if this is purely about her anticipated refusal to bow to his demands.

An idea occurs to her and she jumps down from the platform, landing lightly on her feet in front of the mages. She walks closer to them and one of the Scoia'tael on the ground raises their bow in her direction.

_ "Fág í a bheith." _

The order from Tova is enough to make them lower their weapon, though they still watch her mistrustfully. 

Yennefer reaches out to the two mages with a tendril of chaos, letting it rouse them back to waking. The two men sputter and try to get up, but two Scoia'tael press swords into the backs of their necks to keep them on their knees.

"Why are you here?"

They look up at her with anger in their eyes and neither speaks. She feeds slivers of agony to them through the same tendril of chaos, watching them wince and then start to writhe as the pain increases. When she feels they've had enough she pulls back slightly.

"Let's try this again. Tell me why you're following me, and I may let you live." It's a lie, of course. She has no intention of leaving them alive no matter what they tell her, but that's not a very effective interrogation tactic.

The man on the left glances sideways at his companion. Yennefer sees the moment of weakness and raises her hand to deliver more pain and the man's eyes widen.

"Wait! I'll tell you!"

His companion glares at him with disgust.

"You would cave so easily? Do you really think she will let you live?"

Yennefer twitches her fingers and the second man collapses in a puddle of screams as she coolly watches. After a few moments she loosens her grip on him and lets him lie there moaning and gasping for breath as she arches an eye at the man on the left.

"Go on."

"Stregobor—he said we had to watch you, that you might have some connection to the Archmistress and try to do something."

"Do something like what?" Yennefer asks darkly.

"I don't know! He didn't say, just told us not to let you disappear."

She ponders this information silently for a few moments. It's curious, that Stregobor would associate her with Tissaia. As far as she knows the Rectoress was glad to be rid of her. It makes no sense that Stregobor would assume she would do anything to help Tissaia unless there is something else that she's missing.

"Why would he think I might do something to help Tissaia?" She voices the thought aloud and is taken aback when the one laying on the ground gives a wet chuckle.

"She was bound to you in some way," he gasps. "Stregobor was hoping that the sentiment was reciprocated."

That draws Yennefer up short. Tissaia was certainly not bound to her in any way that she was aware of. She hadn't heard so much as a peep from the Rectoress since she left Aretuza. And what did that even mean, 'bound to'? Like a magical bond? Or something else?

She's brought out of her thoughts by a cough as the second mage pushes himself upright again. 

"Would you like to hear the details of your beloved Archmistress's death, then?" he says, meeting her eyes with dark glee. "I hear it was quite the scene, that it took ten mages attacking her simultaneously before she broke. They say you could hear her screams from a village away, but I think the bitch deserved even more than what she got—"

His words are lost in a choking gurgle as Yennefer tightens her fist and closes his airway. She doesn't want to hear anymore. The mental image is already too much and she feels vaguely nauseous imagining ten mages converging on Tissaia with the intent to kill. And she can't—or doesn't want to—imagine what would have been necessary to make the normally-reserved woman lose control to the point of screaming.

"Stregobor always said that she cared for you more than she cared for herself," the man wheezes. "I guess the feeling is mutual. How does it feel to still be under her skirts after all these years—"

She clenches her fist and snaps the man's neck before he can say anything else. The one on the left looks at her with panic.

"No, please don't, wait—"

Another crack and he collapses next to the first. Yennefer is breathing hard, though she doesn't understand why. The exchange has left her unsettled on some deep level and she doesn't know how to fix it. 

She can't stop picturing Tissaia, all alone, fighting for her life against a swarm of other mages. Triss hadn't mentioned the details of how Tissaia had supposedly died and Yennefer hadn't asked. It hadn't seemed important at the time. But now it's all she can think about. 

She starts when a hand lands on her arm and whirls to see Tova standing next to her. He backs away with an apologetic look and she takes a few deep breaths to try to calm herself. There's nothing she can do about what's already happened. But if this is the task that Tissaia needs of her, she's going to make damn sure she finishes it.

"Are there more?" she asks, gesturing at the dead mages.

"We saw at least one more a day's ride behind you, but he avoided our patrols. I assume more will come using portals rather than horses."

She curses under her breath. It's terribly inconvenient to not be able to use portals herself when these other mages still can. If they've tracked her to Flotsam then there are sure to be more coming that won't have to adhere to non-magical methods of transport. She'll need to move fast, then, if she wants to avoid getting caught as she heads north.

"I can't wait til morning. Can you bring the horse now?"

Tova signals another Scoia'tael, who jogs into the trees and comes back a few seconds later leading a massive grey gelding. The horse is regal and clearly well bred, and he drops his head to snuffle at Yennefer. She offers him her hand and his soft lips mouth against it before he snorts and drops his head to search the ground for anything of interest.

Tova hefts the saddle packs onto the horse. "This should be enough to get you through. We'll make sure you make it to Murivel without being followed, but we can go no farther." He points into the woods. "Head in that direction and you'll find the road you need. I'll send someone in the trees to ensure you don't encounter any problems."

Yennefer nods. She'll take whatever help she can get. She mounts the gelding and settles herself in the saddle, adjusting the stirrups to the proper length. Tova looks up at her from the ground with an inscrutable expression.

"Travel safely, and may you find what you're looking for." 

She nudges the horse into a trot and sets off into the darkness without looking back.

###

"Damn it!"

Yennefer swears as she slips on an icy patch and almost goes sliding off a cliff. She's been trying to pick her way down to the rocky beach below for the better part of the morning and has made scant progress.

She can see Inis Porhoet in the fog, far enough offshore that there's no way to reach it without a boat. If this is where Tissaia wants her to go, she hopes the other woman made sure there is actually a way to get there.

A gust of wind cuts through the thick cloak she's wearing and she shivers. It's been a miserable few days. If she never has to sit on a horse again it will be too soon. The grey gelding the Scoia'tael gave her had been faster than she could have hoped for, but it had still been a long ride. There were far too many hours where she was left with nothing but her own thoughts, and hadn't been able to stop turning over the new information regarding Tissaia.

_ It took ten mages to break her. _

_ Her screams could be heard in the next village over. _

_ She always cared more for you than herself. _

The first two were bad enough. Any time she started to doze her brain had tortured her with vivid images of the many ways that Tissaia might have suffered. It breathed life into a tiny flame of vengeance deep within her chest. She wants nothing more than to track down every mage who had a hand in the matter and grant each of them a slow and agonizing death. 

More than one comment may have fallen from her lips over the years about not losing sleep should harm befall the Rectoress, but now that it has happened she finds the reality of her emotions to be quite different. With nothing to distract her on the ride she'd been forced to reckon with the reality that she might not hate Tissaia as much as she'd always claimed, and that she might genuinely want the woman alive. She refuses to think on it more than that, and contents herself with the knowledge that it could just be some remnant of the old gratitude for Tissaia rescuing her from the pigpen.

The bigger problem is the final statement the assassin made. Yennefer can reason away her reactions to the first two as some twisted sense of obligation, but that last one is not so straightforward. 

Everything about the words makes her uneasy. The idea of Tissaia caring for her at all is almost laughable. If she cared, then why had she allowed the assignment to Nilfgaard? Why had she not fought harder then? And why had she never once sought Yennefer out in all the years since? Those were not the actions of a woman who cared.

She's reminded of Triss admonishing her that she knew only a piece of Tissaia and the look in the other mage's eyes when she gazed at Yennefer as if she was missing some key bit of information. It feels like everyone knows something she doesn't when it comes to Tissaia, and she hates it. But what she hates even more is that she can't deny the visceral reaction she'd had to the assassin mocking her for feeling the same. 

If he meant that she cares for Tissaia in the sense that she regularly imagines the other woman being knocked from her pedestal or being able to wrap her hands around that gorgeous, long neck and strangle her for being so difficult, then sure. She cares for Tissaia. 

But part of her knows it's more than that. Somewhere along the way she started to give a fuck about what happens to the other woman. 

She can't help that Tissaia has always been the one person who can truly match her word for word and action for action. There's something alluring about the constant struggle and tension between them, the knowing that Tissaia is her equal (and maybe then some). Precious few people, mage or no, can keep up with Yennefer, and Tissaia is the only one who's ever dared to challenge her. 

Some thread ties them together, and she doesn't want to lose that. Doesn't want to lose the chance to learn more about the other woman, what makes her tick, what her motivations are, why she does the things she does.

Yennefer curses as her foot slips again and she skids halfway down the cliff before catching herself on a jagged rock. It bites into her hand but slows her enough to regain her footing, and she's pleased to see that she's stumbled onto a clear path down to the beach. 

She takes careful steps until she's safely on the rocky beach. Harsh waves crash against the shore, sending up sprays of icy mist that land on Yennefer and freeze on her cloak. She scans the beach for any sign of a way to cross the water and get to Inis Porhoet, but there's nothing. Not even a pathetic excuse for a dinghy. She wants to scream at hitting yet another dead end, but she settles for throwing herself down on a log that's half-buried on the beach.

Where can she go from here? There are no more clues, nobody around to give her a hint or tell her the next step, or even to let her know if she's headed in the right direction. It feels futile, and she almost wants to cry from the frustration and helplessness she feels. Why would Tissaia set her an impossible task?

"Well well well, someone is a long way from home."

The words come from behind her and Yennefer jerks around, straining her eyes in search of the speaker. She  _ knows _ that voice, the silky smooth tone with the edge of arrogance. It's exactly the voice she's been hoping to hear, and she's not sure her mind hasn't conjured it out of thin air just to spite her.

But then the breeze shifts, and the woman she's been chasing for the past week steps out of the fog like some sort of vision, and Yennefer can only breathe a single word:

_ "Tissaia." _


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some limited reference to non-con. Nothing explicit and it's just a handful of lines, but the archive warnings are being stubborn and won't let me update them, so I don't want anyone to be caught off guard.
> 
> Thanks to everyone who has left kudos and commented, I hope you enjoy the update!!

It feels like all of the air has been sucked from her lungs as she watches Tissaia come closer. She's undertaken this whole disjointed journey under the assumption that the other woman was not, in fact, dead, but the relief that pulses through her at  _ seeing _ Tissaia alive and real in front of her is indescribable.

The smaller woman is wearing a thick grey fur cloak that hides her frame from view, but her presence is so familiar that Yennefer has to take a deep breath to regain control of her emotions.

"You sent me on quite the chase to find you," she says, trying for disinterest and falling miserably short. One corner of Tissaia's mouth barely lifts in a hint of a smile.

"I know you don't like taking the easy way, Yennefer. I thought you would appreciate the challenge."

Once again, that voice filters through her ears and Yennefer pushes herself to her feet.

"Cut the bullshit, Tissaia. You owe me an explanation."

Tissaia presses her lips together and turns on her heel, heading back the way she came. When Yennefer doesn't move to follow her right away, she calls over her shoulder.

"Are you waiting for an invitation?"

Yennefer shakes herself and jogs to catch up. For someone so short Tissaia moves more quickly than she would expect.

They cross the beach in silence. Tissaia leads her to a narrow path that leads up the cliff. It's almost invisible even when she's staring right at it, but she still kicks herself for not spotting it on her descent. 

The climb back to the top is far easier and Yennefer lets her mind wander. She can't see anything of Tissaia except the other mage's back, and curiosity gnaws at her. Now that the initial shock of seeing Tissaia is wearing off she has so many questions. 

On a whim she stretches her consciousness out to brush against Tissaia's, searching for any hints or clues, but she's almost knocked off balance by the strength of the rebuke she's met with.

**_Don't._ **

She blows a lock of hair out her face and sulks a bit. Nothing ever really changes. She's practically killed herself following Tissaia's mysterious scavenger hunt and the other woman  _ still _ doesn't trust her. Typical. 

She doesn't know why she expected anything to be different. Maybe from all the talk of Tissaia  _ caring  _ about her, or how she didn't know everything there was to know about the mage. It's a brutal reminder that what she does know is not particularly pleasant, and that there's a good reason why she never tried to reestablish contact with Tissaia after leaving Aretuza.

The wind gusts as they crest the cliff, and Yennefer is thankful to see her horse still standing where she left him. He lifts his head from grazing and whickers at Tissaia, and without so much as a prompt he falls into step beside her.

_ Great. Even the fucking horse does what she wants _ .

She glares at his rump and mouths "traitor" when his head turns to look at her. He doesn't respond, just gently bumps Tissaia with his head and keeps walking. It's unfair, really. How can such an unlikable woman still compel so many to cater to her every whim without even trying? 

"I can practically hear your pouting, Yennefer."

Her head snaps up and she rolls her eyes. "Well maybe I wouldn't have to pout if you stopped treating me like a child and actually told me what the fuck is going on."

Tissaia doesn't even glance back. "Pouting does not make a strong case for you having grown out of childhood. If you wish to act in childish ways, then that is how I shall treat you."

She's infuriating. Yennefer has half a mind to grab the horse and leave then and there, supposed mission be damned. She would probably do it if the stupid animal wasn't following Tissaia about like a lovesick puppy. It won't do to chance her dramatic exit on his willingness to leave the woman who is apparently his new best friend. 

Several more minutes pass in silence. The terrain shifts from barren tundra into dense pine trees, and Yennefer looks around curiously. Tissaia is walking with purpose and hasn't paused once to orient herself. Clearly she knows where she's going, though Yennefer can't imagine what could possibly be out in this hostile wasteland that would be worth knowing about.

Then she sees it. Tucked away between two stands of trees, a tiny hut sits nestled in the snow. It's small, but it looks to be in decent repair and Yennefer finds herself hoping that it will at least be warm and dry. She's been traveling in frigid temperatures for days, and a warm bed sounds absolutely divine.

Tissaia opens the door with an old-fashioned key in the lock, and the horse snuffles with disappointment when she blocks him from following. She murmurs a few words to him and he backs away to stand by the side of the cottage. Yennefer arches a brow.

"Don't tell me you can talk to animals."

"Don't be silly," Tissaia says. "We don't live in a faerie tale."

Yennefer thinks that if she rolls her eyes much harder they might fall out of her skull. She lets Tissaia go inside and hangs back to unsaddle her horse and give him a bit of feed from one of the saddlebags. It also serves as a few minutes to rein in her temper. She hasn't come across half the continent to leave before she gets answers. 

When she feels calmer, she heads inside. The interior of the cottage is lit by the warm glow of a hearth. A narrow bed lines one wall, and there's a table with two chairs by the fire. Shelves line the walls, covered with vials and bottles of various sizes and shapes. Yennefer is distracted for a moment by the sheer volume, and she can't help but wander closer so that she can read the labels.

"Always best to be prepared. One never knows what might happen, this far north."

She looks over to where Tissaia is kneeling by the fire, a small kettle already bubbling. The smaller woman adds another log and stands back up. She's taken her cloak off, leaving her in a simple burgundy dress. It looks strange on her, without the high collar or other embellishment that is such a familiar part of her usual dresses. Her neck is bare, and the absence of the pendant makes the whole visual feel somehow wrong. 

"Something wrong?" Tissaia asks. Her gaze is a little too knowing for Yennefer's liking, but the younger sorceress tamps down the urge to say something snippy in response. She's here for answers, and those will come far easier if she doesn't antagonize Tissaia at every opportunity.

The kettle whistles and prevents her from having to say anything, and Yennefer sits at the table while Tissaia pours boiling water over two cups. Glass clinks, and the fragrant smell of an unknown tea fills the room as Tissaia sets one cup in front of Yennefer before settling into the other chair.

"So. About those answers." She doesn't bother with her tea. It's nothing but a distraction from what she came here for. Tissaia takes a slow sip and Yennefer watches the way the pale column of her throat shifts when she swallows. She has to force herself to drag her eyes back up to Tissaia's face.

In lieu of an answer, Tissaia sets a small vial on the table. It's filled with a dark grey powder that seems alive in the flickering light from the fire. Yennefer leans forward to get a closer look and jumps when Tissaia stops her.

"Don't."

"What is it?" Something is wrong with it. Normally she can feel the essence of things with her chaos, but whatever is in that vial is nonexistent. No, it's not just nonexistent—it's like there's an  _ absence _ in the fabric of the world, and it's making her uneasy.

"Dimeritium." 

Yennefer makes a small surprised sound in her throat. She's heard about it before—from Tissaia herself, as it happens, back in her days as a student. There wasn't much said about it, save that it was deadly to mages and would kill them in short order if they ever came in contact with it.

"Why do you have it sitting on your kitchen table?" Yennefer asks slowly. "And what does that have to do with you faking your own death, or sending me on a wild chase to find you?"

Tissaia drags a finger along the vial almost absentmindedly. Her eyes look far away, like she's not even in the room anymore. 

"I grew up here," she finally says. Her voice is quiet and doesn't even sound like her, stripped of its usual confidence. Yennefer opens her mouth to respond that no, she didn't know that because Tissaia never shares anything about herself, but she snaps it shut with an audible  _ click  _ of her teeth when the other woman keeps talking.

"It was long before Kovir became rich from minerals. That came much later, not long before Stregobor was born in Lan Exeter."

Yennefer starts. She hadn't realized that Tissaia and Stregobor come from the same country. 

"Did you know that nearly all the dimeritium in known existence is found within Kovir's borders?" 

It's a rhetorical question, but no, Yennefer did not know that.

"I've always kept a close eye on the mines. Just in case. But for five centuries, there's been nothing. Not until this past year."

Her gaze hardens, and Yennefer thinks she might be able to guess where this is going.

"Stregobor?"

Tissaia nods and a faint smile edges on her lips. "You always were a smart one." It's the first nice thing she's said since they met on the beach, and Yennefer doesn't quite know how to respond. 

"He enlisted the help of several non-mages to mine it and put it through a refining process. I knew he was scheming, but I couldn't tell to what end until a few months ago."

She pauses and takes a sip of tea, and Yennefer mirrors her purely for something to do with her hands. The liquid is hot, though no longer scalding, and has a soothing earthy flavor. Tissaia clears her throat and keeps talking.

"I always knew he harbored delusions of grandeur and power, but I had no idea how deep they ran. Oh, I knew he'd been trying to kill me for some time—"

She waves her hand dismissively, which Yennefer thinks is not quite an appropriate reaction to someone trying to kill you.

"—but this was different. He'd amassed a staggering amount of dimeritium. Enough to kill every mage on the continent a thousand times over, and refined into an easily weaponized format."

She tips her head at the vial. 

"In that powdered form, all that an attacker need do is sprinkle it on the wind to kill any mage within breathing distance."

Fear prickles up the back of Yennefer's neck. This is far beyond anything she would have expected from Stregobor. It's not that she's surprised by the lengths he'll go to for more power—that much is familiar. But the elaborate nature of this plan is stunning. She hadn't thought him capable of such a degree of forethought and planning.

Tissaia still hasn’t directly answered the original question, and Yennefer prompts her again, trying a slightly different tack this time.

"Why are you here, Tissaia?"

The older woman looks at her evenly. 

"It unbalanced the scales. With no way to counteract the dimeritium, Stregobor was going to be unstoppable. I had to find a cure for it."

"And did you?" Yennefer asks. 

"That's what you're here to help me find out."

"What, am I to be your guinea pig? So you can use me for your own devices one last time?"

Tissaia looks at her, and the expression on her face is torn between guilt and something else. She shakes her head.

"No, Yennefer. I would never ask that of you—nor of any other mage."

"Then what," Yennefer spits. "How else can my being here possibly help you with ascertaining whether your cure is effective?"

Tissaia's voice is cool when she replies, but she doesn't meet Yennefer's eyes. "Because I need you to administer the cure to me, and take what notes I have back to Triss if it should fail."

The words pin Yennefer to her chair. There's no way Tissaia would do something so stupid. 

"Absolutely not. I will not sit here and let you kill yourself in the name of a possible cure!" The words come out harsher than she means, but she figures it's fine. Not like this is the first time she and Tissaia have traded daggers masquerading as sentences.

"Yennefer. Think. This is the only way to ensure that Stregobor's bid for power does not succeed." She lifts an eyebrow. "Besides, I would have thought you'd be thrilled for me to potentially meet my end."

There's nothing she can say that would adequately capture the emotions surging through her. How can she possibly communicate all of the things she's been stewing over ever since she read the opening line of that damn letter? How could mere words describe the depth of the feeling in her chest when she imagines Tissaia dying?

She's at a loss for how to give voice to any of that, and so she settles for another biting comment. "Yes, but I didn't expect you to have such a penchant for orchestrating your own demise. Was once not enough for you?"

She stands to leave. There's no way she's going to enable Tissaia to move forward with this plan. Fuck Stregobor and his dimeritium. They can find some other way of fighting back, or of destroying the dimeritium. Literally any way would be better than this—better than Tissaia risking her life on a fragile strand of hope.

Her eyes catch Tissaia's as she goes to shrug her cloak on and she stops dead in her tracks. 

"Tissaia. You didn't."

Tissaia nods once. "In my tea. My chaos is already draining, and I'll likely lose consciousness in the next half hour." 

She holds out a hand with another vial in it. Yennefer stares at it dumbly, unable to believe what she's hearing. Tissaia's hand trembles just the slightest bit, and Yennefer sits back down in her chair with a heavy thud.

"What do I do?" Her voice is shaky as she searches Tissaia's face. If the gears have already been set in motion, then she'll see this through to the end. Even as anger simmers beneath the surface at the older mage's willingness to make the choice for them both, she can't leave her. Not when she can already see tendrils of black creeping across her chest.

Tissaia presses the vial into her hand. "You must wait until I go unconscious. At that time, the dimeritium will have fully saturated my body and you can administer the cure. You needn't do much, just make sure it gets down my throat."

Yennefer grips the vial so hard she's surprised it doesn't shatter. She has several choice curses she'd like to throw at Tissaia right now, but when the Rectoress begins to cough she realizes it's a moot point. There's nothing more damning that she can do than what the smaller woman has already willingly inflicted on herself.

When the coughing fit subsides, Tissaia looks up at Yennefer. Her blue eyes are going hazy, and Yennefer's heart lurches. It feels like she's being forced to watch her die without being allowed to help, and it's a unique agony.

"There's a book with my calculations written down," she says on a wheezing breath. "If this doesn't work, take it to Triss. She'll have to try to figure out where I went wrong."

"You're the great Tissaia de Vries," Yennefer retorts. "I didn't think you made mistakes."

Tissaia looks at her for a long moment, some unreadable expression flitting across her face. "Everyone makes mistakes sometimes, Yennefer." She tries to get up and doesn't quite make it. "Case in point: I should have gone to the bed five minutes ago rather than waiting for the dimeritium to take effect."

Yennefer feels like she's on autopilot as she helps Tissaia stand. The other woman leans heavily on her, unable to support her own weight, and Yennefer half carries her over to the bed. Tissaia promptly curls up in a ball, her expression pained as shivers wrack her body.

"What do I do, Tissaia?" It's like she's a naive schoolgirl all over again, looking to the invincible and all-knowing Archmistress for reassurance that everything is going to be okay. Only now, there's no reassurance to be found in pained blue eyes.

Tissaia manages a brief glance up at her and her lips quirk the tiniest bit.

"There's nothing that can be done now but wait."

###

Yennefer stretches as morning light hits her face. Her muscles are sore, and it takes a few seconds for her brain to wake and remember where she is—and why.

She sits bolt upright as everything comes flooding back, and she twists on the bed. 

"Tissaia!"

The smaller woman is, against all odds, tucked close to Yennefer's side and she winces at the shout.

"I'm right here, there's no need to yell."

The response is so quintessentially  _ Tissaia _ that Yennefer blinks back tears. She'd thought she lost her the night before.

It hadn't taken long for the dimeritium to reduce Tissaia to a trembling wreck after Yennefer helped her to bed. As predicted, she'd gone unconscious within half a candlemark, and Yennefer had tilted her head back and carefully emptied the vial into her mouth. 

Nothing had happened for several long minutes. Tissaia's breathing had gotten faster and more laboured before abruptly cutting out altogether. 

Yennefer had panicked. She’d thought the cure had failed, and she wasn't proud of it but she'd gripped Tissaia's shoulders hard enough to bruise and shaken her, trying desperately to get a reaction. When the other woman started to bleed from her eyes and nose, Yennefer had thought her dead.

As she remembers the sequence of events, Yennefer turns an accusatory glare on the half-asleep woman lying next to her.

"You couldn't have fucking warned me that your precious cure would make you bleed from every bodily orifice?"

"I didn't know," Tissaia says mildly, yawning and sitting up a little. The movement creates space between them, and Yennefer finds herself missing the contact.

"You didn't—" Yennefer sputters. "How little did you know about that cure, Tissaia?!"

She knows her reaction is perhaps a little outsized, but she can't help it. The memory of shaking Tissaia only for her to start bleeding from her eyes, nose, mouth, and ears is traumatizing. 

"I knew it would purge the dimeritium from my body." Tissaia shrugs. "Or at least that was the hope. I just didn't know exactly what that would look like."

Yennefer is shaking slightly and she feels the sting of tears at the corners of her eyes. Tissaia looks at her with some alarm and places a soft hand on her arm.

"Yennefer?"

The quiet sound of her name is enough to break her. All of the pent up emotion has to come out somehow, and she decides that anger is a better avenue for that than tears.

"Does your own life really matter so little to you?" she spits, jerking her arm away. Tissaia doesn't seem to take any affront to being shrugged off, and her eyes are surprisingly tender.

"I would gladly give my life to keep you from harm. Or any of the girls that have come through Aretuza." 

Yennefer's heart skips a beat. Here, finally, is some evidence that Tissaia cares for her. And she knows it's not just her imagination that the second part of the sentence felt like an afterthought, meant to cover up and dilute the initial sentiment.

She still doesn't know what to say in response, though, and decides to steer the conversation in a safer direction. Like what the hell they're going to do now.

"There's a week left until the deadline Stregobor set," she says, glancing over at Tissaia to find the other woman watching her. “What’s your plan?”

“He’ll be preparing to wage war on any mages who don’t cooperate. That’s largely why he’s instructed everyone to report to Ban Ard. If any mage refuses to bend to his will, it will be a simple matter for him to quell their dissent.”

“And what of the dimeritium?”

“That,” Tissaia says with a wry smile, “is likely what he’ll be saving for use should there be a larger or more organized resistance to his new rules. With me presumed dead there are few mages who would dare lead a revolt, but should it happen the dimeritium will allow him an easy victory.”

“But you’ve got the cure,” Yennefer says, trying to understand how the pieces fit together. “So the dimeritium won’t kill them.”

Tissaia winces. “It won’t, but as you saw last night, receiving the antidote after being exposed still incapacitates the mage.”

“I’ll say,” Yennefer mutters, shooting Tissaia a dark look. There’s a smear of rust on one cheek left over from the night, and she resists the urge to wipe it away. 

Tissaia rolls her eyes and continues. “However, if a mage were to take the antidote before any exposure happened…”

The rest is easy enough to fill in, and she understands that Tissaia means to dose any mages she thinks are on their side ahead of the conflict. She narrows her eyes at the woman and wonders if she knows more than she’s letting on about a possible revolt. It’s an awful lot of trouble to go to for something that’s not certain, but she decides against asking. Instead, she starts trying to think through what needs to happen for Tissaia’s plan to happen.

She thinks for a moment before asking, "I take it portals are still off limits?"

Tissaia nods. "They'll find us in an instant. I'm sure Stregobor has spotters combing every inch of the continent for chaos signatures."

Yennefer thinks for a minute. Portals would be far easier, and she doesn't relish the thought of another cross-country journey so soon after the last one, but it's really the only option they've got.

"If we're going to make it to Ban Ard in time, we'll need to leave today."

"We?"

The question is asked with a tone of surprise, and Yennefer arches a brow at Tissaia.

"What? Did you think you'd be rid of me so easily? If there's a chance to see Stregobor held accountable for all he's done over the years, I want to be there." She grins a little. "Besides, I want to see the look on his face when you show up alive and well."

Tissaia still looks a little skeptical, but she doesn't argue the point further. She slumps back against the pillows and seems to be thinking hard about something.

"We'll have to make it to Blaviken with just the one horse. It's too risky to stop while we're still in Kovir. Too many here are living on Stregobor's purse strings."

Yennefer purses her lips and does some quick mental calculations.

"We could double up," she offers. "Maybe not for the whole day, but you're small enough that he probably won't even notice if we're riding at the same time."

She doesn't want to be forced into such close proximity to Tissaia for the time it will take them to reach Blaviken, but they can't afford to be slowed down by one of them going on foot. Tissaia also looks displeased with the idea, but she doesn't protest. 

"I'll overlook the jab at my size," she says dryly, "But only because we have no better options."

Yennefer is so surprised by the easy agreement that she can't think of anything else to say. Finally, she mumbles something about starting to prepare the horse and slides out of bed. At least outside she won't make a fool of herself.

It takes very little time to pack what they need. She paces by the horse while she waits for Tissaia to come out, and she feels like he's judging her.

"Stop it," she says, poking him in the shoulder. "She doesn't have such a fond disposition towards all of us."

"And what, pray tell, is my disposition to you if not pleasant?"

The question startles her and she turns to see Tissaia leaning against the doorframe. She's cleaned up, no trace of blood left on her skin from the previous night, and she's wearing a simple charcoal riding dress. Once again it's far plainer than any of the outfits she's used to seeing her in, but there's still something about the sight of her that makes Yennefer's pulse quicken.

Realizing that she's staring, Yennefer shrugs. "You tell me. I'm all worn out of trying to decipher your mysteries these days."

Tissaia opens her mouth to say something, but after a second she closes it and busies herself with adding some items to the saddlebags. She locks the tiny hut up and looks up at the saddle. There's a slight pause while Yennefer waits for her to mount, but when she remains standing on the ground the younger sorceress understands the problem.

"Can I offer you a hand up, m'lady?" She pairs the words with a gallant bow and a wink, hoping to take some of the sting away from Tissaia needing assistance. It’s not like she’s less capable for needing a hand; ingesting dimeritium and nearly dying would render anyone weakened. Though she looks as impeccable as always, Yennefer can see the barely-noticeable way she curls in on herself protectively, and she crosses her fingers that the smaller woman won’t refuse the help.

Tissaia rolls her eyes but allows Yennefer to boost her into the saddle. Yennefer swings up behind her and can't resist another jab as she wraps her arms around Tissaia's waist to hold on.

"If I'd known all it would take to get you in my arms was sharing a horse, I would have asked you ages ago."

She can practically  _ feel _ Tissaia's eye roll this time, and she grins. Good to know she still hasn't lost her touch. She yelps and almost falls off the horse when Tissaia urges him into a canter from a standstill, clutching much tighter than planned around the other woman's middle.

"Why Yennefer, I thought you a more accomplished rider than that," comes the mocking comment, and Yennefer bristles. 

It's going to be a long ride.

###

When they make camp for the night, Yennefer thinks solid ground under her feet has never felt so good. It's surprisingly exhausting trying to stay on a horse all day when she's not the one in the saddle. 

She practically collapses on the ground as Tissaia starts a small fire and takes a few items out of the saddlebags.

"I'll take first watch." 

Yennefer eyes Tissaia from across the fire, which is already large enough to throw off some weak heat.

"Are you sure?" She doesn't know how she feels about Tissaia staying up half the night when it was only last night that she was nearly dead.

"You had the harder ride," Tissaia says with a shrug. "It's only fair that you get to rest first."

She's not going to argue against that. Small kindnesses from the other mage are rare as it is, and if it involves being able to get more sleep then Yennefer is all for it.

Tissaia tosses her some crackers and jerky, and Yennefer eats it as quickly as possible so that she can go to sleep faster. Nothing sounds better than closing her eyes and not having to think about the world for a little while.

Unfortunately, as soon as she tries to close her eyes she finds herself annoyingly awake. She tosses and turns for a few minutes before giving up and opening her eyes again. Tissaia is sitting at the edge of the little camp they've made, her back to the fire and her pipe in hand. A thin stream of smoke rises above her head.

Deciding that maybe a little conversation will lull her to sleep, she props her head up on one hand.

"I wouldn't have guessed you grew up in Kovir."

Tissaia doesn't turn to look at her, just shrugs and takes another drag from the pipe. When she doesn't say anything else, Yennefer decides to push a bit more.

"What was it like, when you were a child here? Were you the daughter of one of the noble families? I always imagined you being born into that arrogant demeanor and rigid posture you were so fond of in Aretuza."

"I don't want to talk about it." The reply is short and sharp, and Yennefer senses that she's hit a nerve.

"Come on, Tissaia," she presses. "You owe me this much after making me trek across half the continent to find you. You can’t even humor me with two sentences?"

"I don't owe you anything." Tissaia's eyes are dark in the light of the fire as she twists to look at Yennefer. The words are said casually, but the corners of her mouth pinch just the tiniest bit as she speaks them and Yennefer realizes with a start that she's learning the other woman's tells. This particular one means that she doesn't believe whatever it is she's saying.

"Well then do it because you like me. And besides, why wouldn't you want to take a walk down memory lane while we're here in your homelands?"

She doesn't get a response for so long that she's about to give up and roll over when Tissaia finally sighs.

**_If I show you, will you let me sit in peace?_ **

Yennefer grins at the unexpected victory. Being granted access to an actual memory is even better than what she’d asked for. Just the thought of being inside Tissaia’s mind is a little taboo, and she tries not to sound overly eager in her reply.

**_Of course. Now tell me my bedtime story._ **

She feels the impenetrable walls that surround Tissaia's mind ease and soften until she's welcomed in. It's surreal, to suddenly be in the other woman's mind and memories. They're still carefully tucked away, for the most part, but the act of being allowed to share such an intimate thing is enough for Yennefer in this moment.

Images begin to filter through her mind, and she sees Tissaia's childhood float by in snapshots. 

First, a tiny village--if it can even be called that. It's nothing more than a loose gathering of huts propped against each other to keep from falling over. She sees the path between houses through a child's eyes and realizes that she's witnessing the world through a younger Tissaia's eyes. 

The scene dissolves into another, she guesses a few years later by the wear and tear on the buildings. She watches as the memory version of Tissaia shares out tiny portions of weak broth to other children in the village. One of them looks up at her with hungry eyes, but the pot is empty and she turns them away. 

And then all of a sudden she's standing in the center of the village, and it burns in flames around her. She can feel the terror and shame coursing through the memory, and she recognizes that this must have been Tissaia's conduit moment. She presses deeper into the memory without thought, seeking to understand what happened, and the next thing she knows she's been thrown from Tissaia's mind and back into her own with an almost physical blow.

"Did I not teach you it's poor manners to dig about in peoples' minds without their consent?" Tissaia snaps. 

"I really did think you were from a noble family," Yennefer says thoughtfully, unconcerned with the rebuke as she tries to integrate these new bits of information with the woman sitting in front of her. Tissaia arches an eyebrow at her.

"Whatever gave you that impression?"

"Well—" Yennefer thinks for a moment and then waves a hand at the other woman. "Kind of everything about you, to be honest."

That earns a chuckle from Tissaia, and the sound brings a bloom of warmth to Yennefer's cheeks.

"Anything can be learned, Yennefer. Whether that be complex spells or basic manners."

"Or how to hold yourself as if you've got a metal rod for a spine," Yennefer says with a smirk. Tissaia huffs, but it's good-natured, and their exchange feels more like friendly teasing than actual critique.

"Now, if I've satisfied your curiosity for the night, I do believe you promised me some peace and quiet."

Yennefer gives her a mocking salute and turns over so that her back is to the fire. She really does mean to go to sleep, but a lingering thought makes her roll over so that she can see Tissaia again.

"Tissaia?"

"Hmm?" She doesn't sound thrilled to be speaking again and remains facing the woods again, but Yennefer doesn't let that deter her.

"I'm glad you're alive."

She watches the sudden tension break across the other woman's shoulders as she starts and turns. Yennefer doesn't know what's written on her face—couldn't name it even for herself, much less someone else—but whatever Tissaia sees, it makes her posture loosen and her eyes warm.

She doesn't say anything, and Yennefer relaxes back against the ground when Tissaia returns her attention to the forest. Now that the words have been said aloud it's as if a weight has lifted from her mind, and she drags her cloak around herself a little more tightly. The last thing she sees before her eyes close and sleep takes her is the silhouette of Tissaia sitting alone on a rock, gazing up at the stars.

###

The more Yennefer learns about Tissaia, the more she wants to know  _ everything _ . They're nearly to Montecalvo now after getting a second horse in Blaviken, and the days spent riding leave her plenty of time to mull over what she's gleaned so far.

It's become something of a nightly ritual at this point. Tissaia always insists on taking the first watch, and Yennefer always insists on a bedtime story. Tissaia might gripe about it and chide Yennefer for being childish, but the older woman still opens her mind and shares brief snippets of her life.

Yennefer has seen more sides to Tissaia than she could ever have dreamt. Triss's words about how she only knew a part of the woman have been floating in the back of her mind since Inis Porhoet, and Yennefer finds herself in reluctant agreement that perhaps there is more to Tissaia than she guessed. 

On the second night of their journey, Yennefer had asked how Tissaia was able to trust the Scoia'tael to pass along the message about where to go next. Tissaia had rolled her eyes but given Yennefer a memory of standing between a group of human soldiers and a young Tova. 

She didn't quite understand the other woman's willingness to put her life on the line for an elf, but Yennefer couldn't ignore the way her stomach twisted at the image of Tissaia fearlessly facing down the much larger group of soldiers—and it wasn't necessarily an unpleasant twist, either.

The memory ended with Tova pressing a small green stone into Tissaia's hand and telling her she would always be welcome in the woods. When she came back to herself, Yennefer had reached into her pocket and run her fingers over the stone there. She'd pulled it out and offered it to Tissaia from across the fire, and the other woman's lips quirked up.

"No. You keep it. They know me well enough on sight at this point that it will do you far more good than me."

Yennefer had pocketed the stone, but her eyes lingered on Tissaia as the other woman turned around to keep an eye on the forest that surrounded them.

On the night after they passed through Blaviken, Tissaia had shown her snapshots of Aretuza over the centuries as she built it into what Yennefer had known. It was almost endearing, to see how seriously Tissaia had taken her supposed responsibility to the thousands of girls who passed through the academy’s doors. 

Yennefer hadn’t said that, of course; she mustered up a half-hearted insult about how the Rectoress probably loved being surrounded by naive young girls who would never dare challenge her. It wasn’t her best work, and Tissaia had only laughed and said, “I seem to recall a certain piglet who took great pleasure in challenging me at every opportunity.” 

Tonight, she asks for a memory and gets a different response than she expects. Tissaia nods, but stipulates a condition: 

"Only if you share one as well."

Yennefer blinks in confusion. She doesn't know what the older mage could possibly want to know about her life—after all, she's been there for the better part of it.

"It's the principle of the thing," Tissaia says with a rather spectacular eye roll. "But if you'd rather not, we can just stop this altogether."

"I'll do it." The sureness of her own response startles Yennefer, but she doesn't regret it. If this is the price to pay for Tissaia being willing to share more of herself then it’s a bargain. Still, part of her can't resist needling the other woman a bit first. 

When she opens her mind and feels Tissaia's consciousness sweep carefully in, she shares a memory of one of the orgies she'd orchestrated at Rinde. A burst of irritation comes through the mental connection and she laughs.

"I always took you for a bit of a prude," she comments, ending the memory and smirking at the other woman.

"One does not live as long as I have and not become  _ intimately _ acquainted with the many pleasures that can be found in the body of another," Tissaia says evenly. "I had merely hoped you would have found something better to do with your life than manipulate common villagers for your own amusement."

The words draw an unexpected reaction in Yennefer. A low throb pulses through her at the way Tissaia's lips wrap around the word  _ intimately _ , drawing it out slightly and enunciating each syllable. She swallows hard against the mental images that swim across her vision of all the many ways that Tissaia might have engaged in the pleasures she so casually references. 

When she finally manages to refocus and look back at the other woman, she finds Tissaia watching her curiously, a faint challenge in her gaze. Yennefer sighs and waves a hand.

"Fine," she grumbles. "I promise not to scandalize you further."

The second time she opens her mind to Tissaia, she hesitates. It feels more real than she'd anticipated, to give something of herself in this way. She wonders if this vulnerable, exposed feeling is what the other mage has felt the previous nights.

**_You don't have to._ **

Tissaia's voice echoes in her head and Yennefer exhales a long breath. While she can sense the deep curiosity the other woman holds (and that is an interesting thing all on its own), she can also feel the sincerity in the unspoken words. 

Steeling herself, she tugs another memory to the forefront and lets it wash across her mind.

_ Riding in the carriage with Queen Kalis and the infant princess. _

_ The screams and blood as the assassin killed the soldiers outside. _

_ Conjuring portal after portal in an attempt to escape. _

_ Crawling from the sea with the dead princess in her arms. _

Yennefer shoves the memory away as it reaches its end and feels the wisps of rapport left between her and Tissaia. She pushes into the connection, daring the other woman to show what she's feeling. 

Instead of the pity or disappointment she expects, there is a slow trickle of emotion—anger, though not at Yennefer; fear, for how close the assassin had been to succeeding; grief, for what had been lost; and...something else. Some sort of guilt or shame, but Yennefer can't feel it clearly enough to place what it means. 

The only sound for a few minutes is the occasional crackle from the fire. Tissaia doesn't fully cut off the mental connection, and Yennefer just sits quietly and savors the feeling of being with someone who isn't judging her for the things that have happened in her life. 

She realizes that maybe it's never been about judgment with Tissaia. All of the times when the other mage has tried to steer her a certain direction are filtered differently through the hazy remnants of emotion that linger from the shared memory. 

Now, with this different perspective, she sees that perhaps all Tissaia had been trying to do was set a path on which Yennefer could find the success that she dreamed of. She'd assumed it was because the Rectoress viewed the world as being black and white, right and wrong, and that her actions stemmed from trying to force Yennefer onto the 'right' trajectory.

**_It was never about what was right. I only ever wanted you to find whatever it was you were searching for._ **

The whisper settles across her mind like a warm blanket and Yennefer glances over at Tissaia. The older woman isn't looking at her, but she must have caught something of what Yen was thinking. 

It feels like something is shifting between them faster than Yennefer can keep up. This may be the longest and most genuine exchange they've shared since before her enchantment. 

It's different from that too, though, because then they were clearly in the role of student and teacher—now, the interceding decades have erased the gulf and they're meeting on new territory as equals. 

Yennefer wonders if maybe the way that they have been with each other—all biting comments and cutting looks—is more fluid than she thought, something that they might grow beyond with time and intention.

She relaxes on her sleeping roll and stares up at the sky. It's strange, to feel Tissaia's presence and have it soothe rather than chafe. She's spent so long assuming that she'll always be at odds with the other woman that she doesn't know what to do with this moment of peace between them. 

Eventually, she rolls over on her side and gently nudges at Tissaia with her mind.

**_I showed you mine, now you show me yours._ **

**_You're insufferable._ **

Yennefer smiles at the fondness she can hear underneath the exasperation. She ponders what question to ask, what bit of Tissaia she wants to learn tonight.

**_How did you come to know so much about dimeritium?_ **

The air around her shifts, and when she looks over at where Tissaia sits she can see the other woman's back is tense. There's not much she can tell through the mental bond, and she waits patiently. Well, as patiently as she can—after a few minutes of no response, she prompts her.

**_Tissaia?_ **

**_What?_ **

The reply is terse, absent any of the warmth that had been present up until Yennefer asked the question. She frowns a little, not sure what's changed. When Tissaia still doesn't say anything else, Yenner sighs and rolls onto her back to look up at the sky again.

**_You don't have to._ **

She can feel the hesitation when she parrots the other woman's earlier words back to her. After another couple of seconds, Tissaia relents and slowly opens her mind to Yennefer. The younger sorceress waits for the memory to begin, holding her breath to see what will be revealed. None of the memories Tissaia has shared with her have been particularly happy, but she suspects that this one must be different if the woman is so reluctant to share it.

It begins with a younger Tissaia walking into a castle. A king sits on a throne, and she inclines her chin in a gesture of slight deference. He stares at her like a predator eyeing its next meal, but she ignores it even as his gaze sweeps her from head to toe. 

The memory fades into another; this time Tissaia is standing next to the throne. There's a banquet happening, and in the midst of the revelry the king's hand slides around to rest below the small of Tissaia's back, his fingers stroking. She doesn't react other than to carefully take a single step away from the throne to put just enough distance between them that he can't reach anymore. His expression darkens, and he leans back in his chair with a scowl etched on his face.

Another scene, this time in a smaller room—a study, perhaps. The king enters without knocking and Tissaia stands from behind the desk. Without saying a word the king comes around the desk and grasps Tissaia's arms, yanking her towards him for a kiss. She wrenches an arm free and presses her hand against his chest. 

They speak, though Yennefer can't quite catch the words. In the end she doesn't need to know what's said, because the king tries to lunge forward again and a blast of magic sends him reeling back. It's not enough to harm him, but he stares at Tissaia like he wants to kill her. She stalks from the room and leaves him standing there.

A quick string of disjointed images flash before her eyes, and Yennefer gets the sense that these might not be memories of things Tissaia has experienced, per se, but maybe things that she learned of after the fact. 

The king receives a delivery from the far north and takes it into his bedchamber. He opens the box and chunks of dimeritium are visible, their dark grey exterior shimmering in the candlelight. 

The candlelight changes, and Yennefer surmises that some time has passed. A different box is delivered to the king, and when he opens it there are two bracelets resting on a red velvet cushion. They're made of gold with intricate black designs inlaid on the surface, and there is an ornate lock set into the middle of each one. He lifts them from the cushion with a smile, inspecting them carefully before gently setting them back down. 

In an instant she's back to viewing a different memory through Tissaia's eyes. She looks down at her wrists—at Tissaia's wrists—and sees the gold bands locked in place. She feels sick with rage and helplessness, and she isn't sure if the feelings are her own or the echoes of what Tissaia felt. 

She looks up and sees the king striding towards her across the room, but when she tries to use her chaos there's not even a flicker of it. The bracelets burn around her wrists, and the king gives a twisted smile as he closes the remaining distance, hands already outstretched and reaching for her.

Yennefer is thrown from the memory with a jolt, and it takes her several moments of lying there to catch her breath. Her stomach is queasy and she closes her eyes, trying to ground herself. The memories linger behind her eyelids, though, and she wrenches them back open with a gasp. 

"What was that?" she finally asks, turning her head so that she can see Tissaia. The other woman stands and brushes a stray twig from the hem of her cloak.

"The first court I was assigned to. It's where I first... _ experienced  _ what dimeritium could do."

She doesn't know what to say to that. She can still feel the sensation of her chaos being stripped from her, of reaching for that piece of herself only to find it gone. A shudder ripples through her and she starts to get up. She has so many questions, but all she can think to do is try to ground herself in the reality that Tissaia is  _ here _ , and she's fine, and the memories are nothing more than ghosts.

Yennefer has just made it to her feet when Tissaia starts to walk away.

"Where are you going?"

Her voice is edged with the barest hint of panic, and Tissaia must notice the sound of it because she pauses.

"Not far." Her voice is quiet. "You should rest, we've got a long ride tomorrow."

She doesn't wait to see if Yennefer responds, just melts into the inky blackness of the night. Yennefer sits back down, her usual grace absent as she hits the ground with a thud.

If she'd known what she was asking of the other woman with her question, she wouldn't have pushed. She's an asshole, but that doesn't mean she wants to cause Tissaia pain by dredging up old wounds. 

The last few days have proven her supposed hatred of the other woman irrevocably false, and she can't lie to herself about it anymore. Whatever she feels for Tissaia is far from hate, and while she can't name it, she does know that she doesn't want the other mage to suffer. 

She remembers how small and vulnerable Tissaia had been in the bed as the dimeritium coursed through her system, and she sees the whole thing with new eyes. If anyone asked, she would call it idiocy that Tissaia had voluntarily ingested dimeritium all in the name of testing her cure. 

But just to herself, as she tilts her head back and stares up at the sliver of a moon in the dark sky, she thinks it was also brave. Stupid, yes, but to have known the agony that awaited her as the dimeritium stole her chaos away and still have chosen to do it? There's a certain courage in that.

Yennefer props herself up on a rock and sighs, arranging her cloak over her legs. She doesn't know if Tissaia left to simply get some space for herself or if the older mage is trying to escape her. Either way, she intends to wait for her to return. 

She won't be able to sleep anyways knowing that Tissaia is out wandering the wilderness on her own. The woman might be one of the most powerful mages on the continent, but she's still only one person, and there's no way of knowing whether any of Stregobor's assassins might be on their trail.

The whole situation is giving her a headache, and she closes her eyes to try to block out the light from the fire. She really does mean to stay up until Tissaia returns, but at some point the ambient noise of the logs popping and crackling in the fire soothe her senses, and she drifts into a blessedly dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you haven't noticed, I'm a sucker for angst. How could I resist giving Tissaia a backstory?? I hope their interactions rang true, as the back-and-forth between them is one of my favorite parts of their relationship (and coincidentally one of the most difficult for me to write).
> 
> Also, get excited--I'm almost done writing the next chapter, and I wasn't planning on there being any smut in it, but, well...things got out of hand lol. So if that's your jam, this story will be officially earning its rating in the next update!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's smut in the latter part of this chapter, so be warned if that's not your thing...and if it is, then hopefully this will be a nice addition to your Saturday :)

"Yennefer, wake up."

She blinks groggily and then starts when she realizes that weak morning light is illuminating her surroundings. Her heart rate slows a fraction when she sees Tissaia kneeling nearby.

"Did you sleep here all night?" Her lips are tucked into a small frown as she looks at the uncomfortable way Yennefer is slumped against the rock. 

"I wanted to wait up for you. In case you needed anything."

Tissaia looks surprised, and she doesn't say anything. Yennefer watches the other woman skeptically as the silence drags on.

"That's it? You're not going to chide me for falling asleep, or lecture me about how I can't even do a simple task without mucking it up?"

The surprise on the other woman’s face drifts into something sadder, and Tissaia just shakes her head and stands up. She walks over to their horses, busying herself with the saddlebags and checking their hooves without answering Yennefer's questions.

Yennefer stretches, feeling her spine crack where she'd slept on it funny. Definitely not the most comfortable spot she's ever slept, but also far from the worst. She can't even be mad about it either, since it's her own fault.

She pushes herself to her feet and goes to stand by Tissaia, who's staring into space.

"Everything all right?" she asks, unused to seeing her so distracted.

"Fine," Tissaia snaps. She tightens the girth on her horse with a little more force than is necessary, and the animal turns to look at her reproachfully.

"If you're sure..." Yennefer trails off, not sure what the best way to proceed is. She wishes for a brief moment that she could go back to hating Tissaia; her life really was far simpler when she didn't care to comprehend the smaller woman's moods. 

But she knows she doesn't actually want things to revert to how they were before. There's still enough that she doesn't know about Tissaia to fill every book in the library at Aretuza a hundred times over, but it's not frustrating. 

No, she finds herself spending their long hours in the saddle contemplating ways she can learn more, and committing to memory the bits that have already been shared. It's a little pathetic, when she thinks about it, but she doesn't let herself dwell on that, just like she doesn't let herself dwell on the reasons she's so intrigued by the other woman. Some things are better left unknown.

Tissaia swings up and into the saddle with a degree of grace that Yennefer thinks is rather unfair. Even in a long skirt, the woman looks absolutely unruffled.

She mounts her own horse and guides him into a trot to catch up to Tissaia, who's already several paces ahead. They ride in silence for hours, and Yennefer's thoughts return to what she learn of the other mage the night before.

The dimeritium makes sense, now. She knows that if she had experienced the loss of her chaos the way Tissaia had that she wouldn't have rested until she could be sure it would never happen again. She's actually somewhat surprised the other woman hadn't bothered with searching for an antidote before Stregobor's plan came to light. 

She still has questions, though, and it grows harder not to voice them as the day drags on. Tissaia is clearly uninterested in conversation—they never talk much when they're riding, but the silence today feels especially pointed—but she eventually just goes for it.

"Tissaia?"

"Hmm?"

"How did you escape?"

Tissaia doesn't turn to look at her, but her head tilts just a little as she contemplates the question. 

"I killed him." 

Her voice is soft but a thread of steel runs through it. Yennefer shivers at the tone before she thinks of a follow-up.

"But you didn't have your chaos."

"There are many ways to kill someone, Yennefer," Tissaia says coolly. "And very few of them require chaos."

Well, that brings her up short. The thought of Tissaia killing the king like a regular mortal human would is fascinating. She's never known Tissaia to be a very physical person, and she wonders how she managed to get the upper hand against a king who was easily twice her size.

"Necessity is the mother of creativity," Tissaia says, and Yennefer realizes she must have asked the last bit out loud. They go back to silence for another few minutes before Yennefer opens her mouth again.

"I take back what I said."

Tissaia sighs and looks like she'd rather be anywhere else, but she still replies. 

"You'll have to be more specific than that."

"About you not valuing your life," Yennefer clarifies. "It makes sense now. If it came down to being caged like that or risking death to prevent it from ever happening again, I would have done the same."

Tissaia pulls her horse to a halt and twists in the saddle so she can look directly at Yennefer.

"Silly girl," she murmurs. "Even after all this, you still don't understand."

Yennefer stops next to her in confusion. The other woman is looking at her with something approaching fondness in her gaze, but her tone is also lightly exasperated.

"Well, then why don't you enlighten me if you're so wise and all-knowing?" she snipes back, unable to help herself. She's always hated feeling out of the loop, and for whatever reason that's how she feels  _ all the time _ when she talks to Tissaia.

"It was never about me," Tissaia says, shaking her head slowly. "I would give many things to never feel that particular agony again, but that's not why I've done all of this."

She pauses and blue eyes lock onto violet. "I did it so that nobody else would need to suffer that way. I would risk death a thousand times over if it meant I could keep every girl who's ever trusted their life to me safe." Another pause, and she looks like she's wrestling with something before she continues, "To keep  _ you _ safe."

The words pierce Yennefer's chest like an arrow and she almost loses her balance from the shock. Her horse sidesteps nervously and she strokes his neck a few times to calm him while she tries to collect her thoughts. Once again, Tissaia has managed to rip the earth from beneath her and leave her unmoored, unable to tell which way is up and which way is down. 

She can't think of a single thing to say, but she also can't bear to let the silence drag on any longer.

"Tissaia, I—"

The smaller woman holds up a hand and her lips press together into a thin line. 

"You don't need to flatter me with empty words. I've had more than my share of meaningless platitudes in this life, and I would prefer not to hear them from you, too."

Yennefer looks at her seriously. "Have you ever known me to be one for platitudes, Tissaia?"

There's a beat, and then Tissaia chuckles a little and shakes her head.

"No, I suppose not. But regardless, we should keep moving. We've dallied long enough."

She nudges her horse into a trot and leaves Yennefer sitting there. Never once would the younger woman have imagined hearing the words  _ to keep you safe _ directed at her from Tissaia. It's just not something she's ever expected; but then, there are too many things to count that have happened these last several days that she would never have expected, and all of them are related to Tissaia.

Her horse paws the ground, irritated at being left behind, and Yennefer gives him his head and lets him spring into a canter to catch up. He drops back to a walk as soon as he's next to Tissaia's horse again, and Yennefer shoots a sidelong glance at the other woman. 

Tissaia is looking straight ahead, no sign on her face of even noticing that Yennefer is back beside her. It's mildly frustrating, to be ignored like this, but Yennefer remembers the vulnerability she'd felt the night before when she shared her own memory with Tissaia and decides that it's probably less about her and more about the older woman needing some space to regroup after revealing so many things in so short a time. 

It's interesting, now that she thinks about it—not only the fact that Tissaia has shared things at all, but also  _ what _ she's shared. It would have been easy enough for her to ignore the young mage that first night when Yennefer had pestered her for more details on being from Kovir. And even though she'd responded, she could have showed her any memory. There was nothing forcing her to share something actually meaningful. 

Yennefer bites her lip as she contemplates why Tissaia would allow their little exchanges. She wonders for the first time if perhaps the other woman is genuinely making an effort, if maybe she  _ wants _ to let Yennefer in. 

It hasn't crossed her mind before now, because it seemed ridiculous that Tissaia would ever willingly do anything that might deepen any kind of connection between them, but as the hours pass and they continue to ride in silence, Yennefer can't think of any other explanation. It's an intimate thing, to allow another to share your mind, and it speaks of Tissaia trusting her in a way that's deeply confusing. 

She steals glances at Tissaia as the day wears on and finds herself admiring the little details—the twin lines in between her eyebrows when she frowns; the way the sunlight reflects in clear blue eyes; the sharp line of her cheekbones; how soft her lips look; the long column of her throat, not constricted by those blasted high collars and instead on full display, what looks like miles of creamy pale skin that she can imagine mapping with her mouth—

Yennefer straightens in her saddle, a blush rising up the back of her neck. Was she really just fantasizing about Tissaia?

She chances another look and her eyes follow the line of Tissaia's neck down to her shoulders, and then a bit further—she snaps her gaze away and awkwardly clears her throat. 

Tissaia glances over and raises an eyebrow at her, and Yennefer mumbles, "Swallowed a bug." It's a stupid excuse, but Tissaia returns her attention to the road and that's all that Yennefer cares about, because she's having something of an internal crisis.

Is this what has been building in her since that damned letter came? A simple, stupid infatuation with the other woman? Physical desire for her?

No. Yennefer deepens her seat and her horse slows a fraction, just enough that Tissaia pulls slightly ahead. She wishes it was as simple as the physical attraction. Oh, that's certainly there—now that her mind has made the leap, it takes a supreme effort to keep from staring at Tissaia and imaging all the things she'd like to do to her. But it's more than that. 

She recalls the pounding relief when she first saw Tissaia alive and well, when she woke up next to the woman after administering the cure, the fact that she'd insisted on going to Ban Ard with Tissaia, the many times since that she's felt a warm glow in her chest just from being close to the other woman. Those are not the hallmarks of a purely physical interest. 

She  _ likes _ Tissaia. Genuinely, unfathomably likes her. She doesn't just want to sleep with her for a night; she wants the mornings, too, she wants to keep learning all that there is to know about her, to share of herself in whatever ways Tissaia could ask.

The storm of emotions feels like it's going to crack her open from the inside out. Tissaia is thankfully blessedly unaware of the meltdown Yen is having, and the younger mage forces herself to keep it together. 

There's no map for her to follow about what to do now; she's never had to deal with this before, these  _ feelings _ . And it occurs to her as she watches Tissaia's back that she doesn't know whether the older woman will feel the same. She's certainly softened towards her, but even with all that Tissaia has shown her and said aloud, Yennefer doesn't know if what she's going through is reciprocated. Maybe Tissaia views her as an old student who is convenient to the task at hand, but nothing more.

Yennefer shakes her head a little to clear it of that thought. She knows objectively it's not true. The softness in Tissaia's eyes when she said that she'd done it to keep Yennefer safe was too real. She can't know if Tissaia feels exactly the same, but she knows that the other woman feels  _ something _ .

The thought buoys her. It means she might have a chance. A chance at what, exactly, she can't say quite yet, but she knows she wants more. She'll survive if they reach Ban Ard and thwart Stregobor's plan and then Tissaia sends her away again; she'll continue living her life, but she thinks now that it won't be a very happy one. Not if it doesn't have Tissaia in it.

They ride a bit further, and Yennefer is so deep in thought that she almost misses the warning flicker of chaos.

"Tissaia—"

She only gets out the one word before a series of portals open around them. She counts five men, all of them mages, and she knows instantly that they've been sent as assassins.

The air erupts in a clash of chaos as the mages attack from all sides. Yennefer manages to take one out, clenching her hand until his throat snaps, before a lightning bolt strikes next to her. 

Her horse rears and she slips off and lands on the ground in a heap, her head knocking against the road hard enough to make her vision temporarily blur. She blinks hard and looks around, trying to find Tissaia in the confusion. 

Relief run through her when she spots the other woman, now standing on the ground and facing off against one of the other mages. Yennefer sees the bodies of the other two on the ground nearby and is vaguely impressed at how rapidly Tissaia dispatched them.

She holds her breath as the remaining assassin raises a hand and sends a stream of fire at Tissaia, but she realizes she doesn't need to worry when the woman barely flicks her wrist and redirects the flames back towards the man. He dives out of the way, and it breaks his concentration long enough for Tissaia to bring her other hand up in a quick jerking motion. The assassin's neck jerks and he collapses on the ground, unmoving.

Tissaia turns to look for her and Yennefer's heart beats a little faster at the look of concern on the woman's face. She stumbles to her feet and starts toward her when a flash of movement behind Tissaia catches her eye. 

_ Another. There was another. _

She sees a man raising a throwing knife and launching it at Tissaia's back. On instinct, Yennefer dives forward, knocking Tissaia aside and trying to knock the dagger from the air with a hastily spoken spell, but she can't quite manage it in time. White-hot pain blooms in her side as the knife sinks in, and she goes to her knees. Her ears are ringing, but she dimly hears a faint  _ crack _ that she assumes is the man dying, and then she feels arms encircle her.

Gentle hands probe around the knife, and Yennefer sucks in a pained gasp. Her vision is going dark, and she lets her body slump into Tissaia's grasp. 

"Stay awake, Yennefer."

Tissaia's voice is shaking, which Yennefer thinks is odd. She can't recall ever seeing this particular expression on the other woman's face, and she reaches up to run a finger down her cheek. 

"Tissaia," she sighs, wanting to say something else but finding her strength is gone. Her eyes close, and the blank darkness of unconsciousness takes her.

###

When she comes to, she rapidly becomes aware of several things at once.

First, she's alive. That's good, although not entirely unexpected. Getting stabbed while traveling with one of the most powerful mages on the continent was about the best scenario she could hope for. She takes a deep breath and doesn't feel so much as a twinge, and she smiles a little.

The second thing she notices is that she's in a bed. That's slightly less expected than being alive. The room is dark, but she can tell it's likely an inn from the voices drifting up through the floor. She wonders where they are before deciding that it doesn't matter for the moment.

The third thing is perhaps the most unexpected of all. She goes to sit up and realizes that something heavy is on her right arm. She looks over, blinking in the darkness, and sees Tissaia sitting in a chair. 

The woman seems to be asleep, folded over with her head resting on Yennefer's forearm. It's shocking, the swell of emotion Yennefer experiences at the sight. The urge to reach out and tuck a stray lock of hair behind the woman's ear is almost overwhelming, but she resists. 

"Tissaia." She keeps her voice to a low whisper, but the other woman jerks upright instantly. When she sees the Yennefer is awake, she sags in the chair. There are dark circles under her eyes, visible even in the poor lighting, and Yennefer scoots over in the bed and pats the mattress.

"You're going to have a terribly sore neck if you stay in that position."

Tissaia stares at her for a second, unmoving. Yennefer rolls her eyes and tries again.

"I'll keep my hands to myself and everything."

That seems to be enough to break Tissaia from her reverie and she manages a weak scoff. She climbs into the bed, keeping a few inches of space between them. Unfortunately, the bed is small enough that it means she's hanging off the edge, and Yennefer sighs in frustration.

"Get over here, you're practically falling off the bed." 

She reaches over and pulls Tissaia closer, and it's not until the other woman is lying flush against her that she realizes she might have been a bit shortsighted. Having Tissaia so close is a whole new kind of torture as her pre-stabbing train of thought comes rushing back. Yennefer bites her lip and it's suddenly terribly difficult to keep her hands from wandering.

She wonders if she'll be able to sleep at all, and then decides that she doesn't care. She's lying in a bed after weeks on the road and she and Tissaia are both alive. That's enough, and she closes her eyes and drifts off.

###

When she wakes next, Yennefer can't help the smile that breaks across her face as she registers the warm weight laying half on top of her. She blinks her eyes open and is greeted with the sight of Tissai curled next to her. 

They've gravitated closer in sleep, and Yennefer's arms are wrapped securely around the other woman's body. It's  _ nice _ , and calm, and soothing, and Yennefer has to swallow hard against the sudden rush of tenderness she feels as she looks at Tissaia. The other woman's face is relaxed in sleep, and Yennefer's eyes drift to Tissaia's lips, which are just barely parted. 

Tissaia stirs and her eyes open, and there are a few precious seconds when she looks at Yennefer with such a soft gaze that it sends shivers down the younger woman's spine. 

There's so much emotion swirling in those blue eyes that she can't even begin to discern the meaning of the look she's receiving. She holds perfectly still, not wanting to break the spell as Tissaia reaches up with one hand to cup Yennefer's cheek. 

Her eyes close when the smaller woman runs her thumb over the skin just below her eye, and she can't help but lean in to the touch. She makes a small noise of protest when the hand leaves, and she opens her eyes to see Tissaia pulling back and sitting up in bed, putting some space between them.

"I'm sorry," Tissaia murmurs, "I just...I'm glad that you're alive."

Yennefer almost wants to tease the other woman for apologizing. She doesn't think she's ever heard those words come from Tissaia's mouth before, and she's not sure she ever will again. 

But more than the teasing, she wants Tissaia to come back, to look at her and tell her what's running through her mind. The softness has faded from the other woman's body and been replaced with tension, some sort of turmoil clear on her face.

"What's wrong?" Yennefer tries to pitch her voice low so that it's not confrontational, but Tissaia still bristles.

"What's wrong?" She snaps, throwing up her hands. "What's wrong is that you were  _ stabbed,  _ Yennefer! Why would you risk your life like that?"

She's mildly offended at the question. "I'm sorry," she says archly, "Forgive me for saving your life. I thought maybe I'd get a thank you or something, not a lecture about personal safety."

"You could have  _ died _ !" 

"I knew you could heal me," Yennefer says with a shrug.

"What if the blade had been poisoned," Tissaia says, eyes narrowing. "What if I hadn't been able to?"

"But you did. I don't understand why you're so upset at me for saving you."

Tissaia takes a deep breath in through her nose and holds it for a second, clearly trying to control her emotions. Her voice is softer when she speaks again.

"Stupid, brave girl. I did not risk death by dimeritium only for you to die on a common blade."

Yennefer blinks at her in confusion. She's lost, and Tissaia doesn't say anything else, instead looking everywhere  _ but _ at Yennefer.

After a few seconds to think, Yennefer hesitantly reaches out with her mind. If they can't talk about it out loud, maybe this will be easier.

**_Tissaia?_ **

There's no response. An impenetrable wall surrounds the other woman's mind, and Yennefer blows out a frustrated breath.

**_Tissaia, please. Talk to me._ **

She's about to give up when she feels the wall ease. She waits patiently for Tissaia to reach out to her, not wanting to overstep and risk scaring the other woman off again. 

The connection is tentative when it finally comes. She can feel a jumble of emotions swirling in Tissaia's mind and it's overwhelming.

**_What's wrong?_ **

She tries once more to prompt the other woman to share, and this time she gets a response.

Tissaia opens her mind, and Yennefer frowns when she sees...herself? 

It's their meeting on the beach, but from Tissaia's perspective. She sees the moment that Tissaia spots her, and there's a sudden rush of emotion. Pride. Gratitude. Relief. And under it all, a thread of something else that's been shoved down so deeply that Yennefer can't make it out.

The image shifts to one of Yennefer asleep by the fire. It's the first night they had set out, judging by the snowy forest in the background, and Yennefer sees herself through Tissaia's eyes. Once again there's a deep well of emotion, though slightly different from the last memory—protectiveness. Serenity. Hope. And that same undercurrent that she can't quite put her finger on.

A final memory flashes before her, and she sees herself lying on the ground as Tissaia heals her with shaking hands. She can taste the terror in Tissaia's mouth, the coppery smell of blood in the air even as the healing takes and knits the injury closed. Tissaia pulls her into her lap, cradling her head, and she cries. 

It rocks her to her core to see the proud woman come apart, and the emotions pummel her until she finally understands them. 

The strand that she's felt in the other memories is clear to her now: it's a soul-wrenching  _ wanting _ , a care so profound that it steals her breath away. It mirrors the feelings that have been building in her, and the knowledge grounds her in herself as the memory fades around her, leaving her back in the inn with Tissaia.

"Do you see, now?" Tissaia's voice is quiet, but her eyes are searching Yennefer's face for her reaction.

The younger sorceress doesn't say anything at first, trying to sort through what this new information means for her—for them. And just the thought that there could be a  _ them _ makes her feel like a giddy child. 

But Tissaia takes her silence for something else and her shoulders drop a little. The sight is like daggers to Yennefer's heart.

"I understand that this changes things." Her voice is defeated, now, and she won't meet Yennefer's gaze. "All I would ask is that you stay with me until we reach Ban Ard and administer the antidote. After that, you'll never have to see me again."

"What if I don't want that?"

Tissaia’s head snaps up and she stares at her, unsure of what Yennefer is asking. The younger mage hurries to clarify.

"What if I  _ want _ to see you again?"

Tissaia's expression is still guarded, like she thinks this might be a trick of some sort, and Yennefer can't bear the other woman thinking herself unwanted. She shifts on the bed until she's able to reach out and take Tissaia's face in her hands. 

The force of the longing she sees in those blue eyes is stunning, and she wonders how she's missed it before now. Tissaia is trembling faintly, but she doesn't look away as Yennefer leans in and ghosts a kiss across her lips. 

Soft and chaste is not generally what appeals to her, and she doesn't think she's ever held back for anyone before, but Yennefer finds herself perfectly content with the soft press of her lips on Tissaia's. It fills some empty part of her being, and her eyes slip closed for a split second. 

But then Tissaia starts moving, pressing into her and deepening the kiss. The other woman's hand come up and tangle in the soft hair at the nape of Yennefer's neck, winding in the strands and using the new hold to tug her closer. 

A tongue swipes against her lips, and Yennefer surprises herself with the moan that bursts from her chest. She opens her mouth, getting up on her knees so that she can better control the angle of the kiss, and she relishes in the whimper the movement draws from Tissaia. It feels like a victory to crack the other woman's normally flawless self control, and Yennefer smiles into the kiss. 

An abrupt sting in her lower lip makes her gasp, but the nip is soothed seconds later by that glorious tongue. This kiss is doing more for her than that last ten people she slept with combined, and Yennefer can't get enough. 

She takes back every thought she's ever had about Tissaia being a frigid prude as the other woman does something clever with her tongue that makes Yennefer's stomach swoop, arousal gathering hot and slick between her thighs. 

Yennefer prides herself on being well versed in all manner of sexual adventures, but her body hums at the way Tissaia touches it and she can only imagine what the woman could do without all of their pesky clothing in the way. 

Her hands itch to explore lower, but she only lets them slide down to Tissaia's hips. Even with the desire coursing through her she worries about pushing too far, of doing something that will bring this glorious moment to an end. 

Tissaia must sense her hesitation, because she pulls back just far enough that she can get a proper look at Yennefer. The younger sorceress sucks in heaving lungfuls of air and can't help but admire just how thoroughly debauched Tissaia looks. 

Her hair is falling about her face, the pins that normally keep it in place long since lost, and her eyes are nearly blacked out with want. She bites her lip, drawing Yennefer's attention back to her mouth, and she looks up at the younger woman through her lashes.

"There's no need to be chivalrous on my account," she murmurs, leaning in to lick a line up to Yennefer's ear. She nips at the lobe and Yennefer can hear the smirk in her voice when she continues, "I'm afraid I've not been a blushing virgin for many centuries."

The insinuation of other people getting to be with Tissaia, to see her like this, lights a possessive flame in Yennefer's chest. She twists her fingers into Tissaia's hair and yanks until the smaller woman's head falls back. Yennefer darts her head down to place a bruising kiss on Tissaia's lips, only to pull back and leave the other woman chasing her lips with a whine.

"So many lovers," she drawls, letting a finger trace the flexing tendons in Tissaia's neck down over her clavicle. "And yet none of them ever had you the way I'm going to." She tightens the hand still twined in the smaller woman's hair to punctuate the statement and grins when Tissaia practically melts into her.

"Cocky, aren't you," Tissaia gasps, but the flush covering her chest and the way her back arches just the tiniest bit to try to get more contact between them shows the lie in her words. 

Yennefer just smirks down at her and raises a challenging eyebrow. She fully intends to wait the older woman out and make her admit that this is different, but she isn't counting on Tissaia trailing sneaky hands down to brush just across the tops of Yennefer's thighs. 

The thin material of her dress mutes the sensation just enough to drive her wild, and this time she's the one mewling and shifting in search of  _ more.  _ Tissaia gives her a victorious grin as she slides her hands down lower until they catch the hem of Yen's dress and start to lift it. 

Yennefer's breath comes in hard pants as the hem creeps higher and higher, revealing deliciously smooth skin to Tissaia's hungry gaze. The smaller woman pauses for a second to meet Yennefer's eyes, and the younger sorceress looks back at her in desperation.

"Please, Tissaia—" 

The broken words are ripped from her chest without thought, the need to feel the other woman's hands on her superseding all thoughts of pride or maintaining the upper hand. Tissaia licks her lips and looks she wants to eat Yennefer alive.

"I didn't even know that word was in your vocabulary," she whispers, and Yennefer starts to protest but her dress is up and over her head before she can get the words out and then she's lost in a blur of sensation. 

It feels like Tissaia is absolutely everywhere, using teeth and tongue and hands with devastating results. A searing mouth closes around a nipple and Yennefer cries out, her hands tangling in Tissaia's hair in an effort to hold her there. 

The suction and liberal use of teeth is incredible on its own, but what really does it for her are the little glances Tissaia steals looking up at her face. There's such naked want, such  _ awe _ in those eyes that it makes Yennefer feel as if she's going to combust. One of Tissaia's hands reaches up to trace around Yennefer's other breast, the nail scratching delightfully everywhere but where Yennefer wants it.

"Tissaia—" she doesn't even know what she's saying at this point, only knows that she needs everything the other woman will give her. She whines as Tissia's mouth leaves her nipple, but the sound cuts off when the woman gives her a smoldering look and begins to lay a trail of licks and kisses down Yennefer's stomach. Her hips arch off the bed, seeking some sort of contact, but Tissaia uses an arm to pin them to the mattress and hold them there.

"Impatient," she says, shaking her head with a breathy laugh. Yennefer bucks her hips against the grip, testing the strength of it, and her mind goes blank when Tissaia slams them back down to the mattress without breaking eye contact. 

It's blindingly hot, and she closes her eyes as she feels hot breath skate across her inner thighs. The arm holding her hips disappears, only to reappear underneath her legs as Tissaia arranges them so that one of Yennefer's thighs is thrown over her shoulder, spreading the younger woman open before her devouring gaze.

**_Beautiful._ **

The whisper ghosts across Yennefer's mind, and she opens herself to Tissaia without thought. Their connection is familiar, now, and she bites back a cry when she feels the sheer  _ want _ coursing through the other woman. 

She tries to project out the unfathomable need scorching every inch of her body in a bid to get Tissaia to do something, and the other woman chuckles from her spot between Yennefer's legs.

**_Someone's needy._ **

Yennefer is still trying to come up with a suitable retort when she feels the first press of Tissaia's mouth against her center. She's not convinced that Tissaia doesn't have an enchanted tongue, between her kissing and what she's doing now, and her arousal spikes higher and higher until she's barely hanging on.

She doesn't want it to end, and she stubbornly refuses to let herself go even as that damned tongue dips inside before returning to draw circles around her clit. 

Tissaia seems amused by Yennefer's resistance, and the look in her eyes is absolutely wicked as she drags a hand up Yennefer's leg, nails scratching pleasantly against the soft skin. Yennefer is panting and watching the other woman's every move through hooded eyes, and she moans when she sees her intention.

Tissaia lets her fingers glide along Yennefer's center, gathering the slick that's collected there before dipping inside. The sensation draws a strangled groan from the younger woman's mouth, and Tissaia places a soft kiss against her inner thigh. She slips two fingers fully inside, hooking them slightly as she pulls them back out and setting every cell in Yennefer's body on fire.

**_Come for me._ **

The order sits in her brain and there's no way that Yennefer can resist. Tissaia adds a third finger and her lips close around Yennefer's clit, suckling hard, and Yennefer  _ wails _ as an all-consuming orgasm crashes over her. 

The pleasure whites out her vision as she bucks against Tissaia's hands and mouth, wave after wave of ecstasy pounding through her. It feels like it lasts for hours, and as she drifts back into her body she becomes dimly aware of Tissaia's fingers still gently moving inside of her. 

**_Again._ **

"Tissaia, I can't—"

"You can," Tissaia murmurs, licking a broad stripe up the length of Yennefer's cunt and letting the flat of her tongue press hard against the other woman's clit. It turns out she's right, because a second later Yennefer feels the tell-tale sparks of pleasure erupting low in her belly.

"Gods, Tissaia," she groans, helpless to stop the rising tide of a second orgasm. Her eyes slide closed as she loses herself in the sensations. 

There's the faint pressure of a fourth finger at her entrance, not pushing inside, just teasing there, and that's all it takes. She tips over the edge again with a throaty cry, and she can  _ feel  _ the satisfaction radiating off of Tissaia. 

She throws an arm over her eyes as she tries to catch her breath. Lips trace a tender path up her stomach, skating over her breasts before she feels Tissaia sigh contently against her neck.

**_You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that._ **

The thought catches her by surprise, and Yennefer shifts so she can look down at Tissaia.

"Well, if that's what I've been missing out on then I think you've been quite selfish all these years," she mumbles, her brain trying to adjust to this new reality where Tissaia  _ wants _ her. Tissaia gives her a wicked grin.

**_You haven't seen anything yet._ **

Yennefer's eyebrows go up, and she grins. 

"I think I might have created some sort of monster," she laughs. "Albeit one who refuses to speak to me out loud."

"Oh that's purely a matter of convenience," Tissaia says with an absolutely filthy smirk. "There are so many more interesting uses for my mouth than talking, wouldn't you agree?"

Yennefer can't argue with that logic. She moves a little so that she can reach a hand out and trail it down Tissaia's arm. The fact that the other woman is still in her dress is an absolute travesty, and she slides her hand around to hunt for the fastenings. She gets them open and immediately slips her hand inside, splaying her fingers against the warm skin underneath.

"Oh," Tissaia breathes, her eyes fluttering as she arches into Yennefer a bit more. The younger sorceress grins at the reaction and slides the fabric off of Tissaia's shoulders. Before she can push it all the way down, a gentle hand catches her wrist. 

**_You don't have to._ **

The feeling that accompanies the words is so genuine it almost brings tears to Yennefer's eyes. She blinks them away and turns her wrist so that can can capture Tissaia's hand in her, raising it to her lips. 

She means to merely press a kiss to the palm, but she catches her own scent on the skin and it makes something feral flare in her. 

She lets her lips wrap around the tips of Tissaia's fingers, flicking her tongue against the pads as she sucks and tastes the remnants of her own arousal. Tissaia moans at the sensation, and Yennefer pulls back and lays a gentle kiss against her fingertips.

**_But I want to._ **

And it's true. She wants nothing more than to explore every inch of Tissaia's body, worship her properly until she can never again doubt the adoration that fills Yennefer when she looks at the other woman. Something of the sentiment must be transferred in the connection, because Tissaia's eyes darken and she bites her lip.

**_Well then, what are you waiting for?_ **

Yennefer presses a quick kiss against that smart mouth before refocusing on getting her out of her dress. They can't stay in this bed forever, and she fully intends to make the most of what time they have.

###

A pleased smile tugs at the corners of Yennefer's mouth as she rests against the pillows. Her fingers trace idle shapes and patterns on Tissaia's bare skin, and the other woman hums lightly.

**_That's nice._ **

"You're nice," Yennefer says with a smirk. She feels the way Tissaia's ribcage expands under her fingertips and vibrates lightly as she chuckles.

"Still such a child." Tissaia's head is resting on Yennefer's collarbone and she nips at the curve, making the younger sorceress jump slightly.

"That's not what you were saying ten minutes ago." The words trail off into a moan as soft lips move up to suck at the juncture between her neck and shoulder.

"No, it's not," Tissaia agrees, pulling back and smiling at the whimper that escapes Yennefer as she does. "I don't recall saying much of anything, actually, as I believe you managed to steal all power of speech from me with those magnificent fingers of yours."

Yennefer waggles the fingers in question with a playful look. "You think they're magnificent?" she asks teasingly. 

**_I think you're magnificent._ **

The quiet sincerity in the words steals Yennefer's breath away and she can't even muster the will to tease the other woman about doing the same thing she'd called childish mere moments earlier.

"You do?" she asks softly, wanting—needing—the reassurance. Tissaia shifts so that she can see Yennefer's face.

"I do," she murmurs. "How could I possibly think anything else?"

"How long?" 

The question seems to catch Tissaia off guard. She blinks at the younger woman and there's a spark of uncertainty in her gaze that makes Yennefer's heart ache.

"Too long," she replies. She see's Yennefer starting to open her mouth to ask for more specifics and shakes her head. "Since before you left Aretuza."

"Tissaia." The word comes out on a sigh as Yennefer leans forward to kiss her. 

She never knew, would never have guessed at the feelings that have so recently come to light. Her stomach twists as she remembers the painful way that she left Aretuza, the biting words that she said, the blame she laid at Tissaia's feet. 

"I'm sorry," she whispers, wishing she could somehow take it back. "I didn't know."

"I didn't want you to know," Tissaia replies with a sad smile. "I didn't think—" She cuts herself off, and Yennefer hears the unspoken  _ I didn't think you'd want me. _

"Well," she says, "I guess you're not as all-knowing as I thought." The gentle teasing eases the sadness from Tissaia's face, and she manages a small smirk.

"You probably would have laughed in my face anyways," she says. "You had good reason not to feel very fondly towards me."

Yennefer thinks about it for a second and then shrugs. "Fond of you? No, I wasn't. But...I think even then there was part of me that wanted you, in whatever capacity I could have you. I thought that meant simply earning your approval, but I think this—" she waves a hand at the scant space between them, "—has been brewing far longer than I realized."

Tissaia's eyes darken slightly as Yennefer speaks, and she captures the younger woman's lips in a searing kiss. Yennefer leans back onto the pillows, pulling Tissaia down on top of her. The smaller woman never breaks contact, deepening the kiss until Yennefer is gasping for breath, her hips rocking up into Tissaia in search of more contact. 

She can't find it in herself to be embarrassed by how easily Tissaia reduces her to a puddle of desire. It feels too good, and she lets her hands slide around until they're resting on the firm curve of the other woman's ass. 

Tissaia breaks the kiss and buries her head in Yennefer's neck.

"Gods, Yen," she gasps, and the shortened version of her name makes Yennefer's heart twitch at the familiarity, at the way it rolls off the other woman's tongue. "I want nothing more than to keep you in this bed with me forever and make up for all the years we've lost." 

Yennefer sighs. She can already hear the  _ but _ coming, and she moves her hands so that they're in slightly safer territory on Tissaia's hips.

"I know," she says softly. "But we can't."

"We could." The words are so quiet as to be nearly inaudible, and Yennefer starts a little at them. "We could stay here, drift from inn to inn and leave the Brotherhood to their own devices." 

Yennefer's heart melts a bit more at the clear longing as Tissaia speaks. She can feel that the other woman would love nothing more than to do exactly as she's describing, but she also knows that it would never last. 

"We could," she agrees, "But that's not who you are. You could never live with yourself knowing you left everyone else to Stregobor's rule, not when you could have done something to stop it." She hesitates before adding, "And I don't want to run anymore, Tissaia. Not from you, and not from a chance to prevent the massacre that will take place if we leave Stregobor to his own devices."

Tissaia looks up at her with gratitude in her eyes, and it makes Yennefer's breath catch in her throat when the woman leans in and places a chaste kiss on her lips. They lay in comfortable silence for a few minutes, just savoring the closeness and the feel of being pressed together, before Yennefer speaks again.

"So, I'm sure you've already got a plan already worked out. Care to tell me how we're going to do this?"

She can feel the way Tissaia's lips purse against the skin of her chest, and she groans. She has a sneaking suspicion she's not going to like this.

###

"Tell me the plan again."

Tissaia sighs and looks over at her. "We've been over it fifty times already, Yennefer. Nothing has changed."

"I know. Just...tell me again."

She's nervous. They're not far from Ban Ard, and they've already had several close calls with mages patrolling the area. She knows they don't have any other options, but she still doesn't like what they've agreed on—namely, the fact that it requires her to separate from Tissaia.

"You'll leave me on the outskirts," Tissaia says, humouring her and outlining what needs to happen once more. "Then you'll enter Ban Ard with the antidote. Once inside, you're to find any and all of our allies and disperse the antidote to them."

"And remind me how will I know who our allies are?" Yennefer asks, brain turning over the task in front of her.

"Triss will guide you," Tissaia replies. "She doesn't know the full plan, but I left her with instructions to ensure she knew who from the Brotherhood could be trusted."

A flash of irrational jealousy rises in Yennefer at the mention of Triss. She doesn't like imagining Tissaia alone at Aretuza for the past seven decades with no allies in sight save for the occasional visitor. There had been a certain familiarity when Triss visited her in Rinde and spoke of Tissaia, and Yennefer wonders for the briefest of moments whether anything might have happened between them.

**_Silly girl. Nobody could have compared to you._ **

The words send a flush of heat through her body, and she sees Tissaia watching her with an amused smile.

**_You have nothing to be jealous of. Though it's rather sweet to see you so worked up over it._ **

Yennefer huffs, but she can't help but smile back. It's stupid. She knows Tissaia has had countless lovers over the years, and she's certainly taken her own share of partners since leaving Aretuza. 

The important thing is that Tissaia wants  _ her _ , is choosing  _ her _ . She can't ask for more than that...although she still feels a lingering possessiveness that cries out for her to do something,  _ anything _ to claim Tissaia and show the world that she's made her decision.

"Okay," she grumbles, "Triss will show me. Then while we're hopefully distributing the antidote, you'll be sneaking in to find Stregobor."

Tissaia nods. "If we're lucky I can make it to him without being noticed."

"And if we're not lucky?"

"Then I'll do my best to give you as much time as I can," Tissaia says grimly. "We don't know how many mages will be there, and many of them will have no idea about what's happening. I don't want them caught in the crossfire if we can help it."

"Why Tissaia," Yennefer says with a mock gasp, "Are you going soft on me?"

Tissaia rolls her eyes and doesn't bother acknowledging the jab. "As long as we're able to deal with Stregobor, the rest will sort itself out. I'd prefer to just kill him and be done with it, but if he tries to talk his way out of this in front of the full Chapter I may not be able to get away with it."

"I never thought I'd say I hoped Stregobor attacks you, but..."

"I know," Tissaia says with a faint laugh. "It will certainly make my job easier if he does, though."

Yennefer bites her lip as she imagines Tissaia going toe to toe with Stregobor. Part of her finds the thought ridiculously hot, but the larger part of her worries about what might happen if Tissaia is caught unawares.

"Just be careful," she says, catching Tissaia's hand in hers and using it to pull the other woman closer. 

Tissaia's eyes are warm as she stretches up on her toes to kiss Yennefer soundly, but when she pulls back she only says, "I'll do what I can."

Yennefer wants to argue the point further, but she knows it's moot. Tissaia can only promise so much, and she's already made it abundantly clear that she's willing to sacrifice herself if it means keeping Yennefer or the others safe. Sighing, the younger sorceress brings both hands up to cup Tissaia's cheeks.

"There's still so much more I want with you."

She lets her eyes wander the smaller woman's face, trying to commit every line to memory. It's cruel, to have only just discovered this new thing between them and to be torn apart and risk death before they've barely even learned each other. 

Maybe it's dramatic, but Yennefer doesn't want to have any regrets about this last time seeing Tissaia. She wants the other woman to walk away knowing that she takes Yennefer's whole heart with her, and that her death is not something the younger woman would bounce back from.

**_There's no need to be so fatalistic, darling. I have no intentions of dying today, nor any day in the foreseeable future._ **

She turns her head so that she can press a soft kiss to the palm of Yennefer's hand.

**_But even if I did, you would recover. You still have so much left to give the world, Yennefer, and that doesn't change with my life or death._ **

Yennefer shakes her head.

**_You underestimate how completely you've managed to alter the very core of me, Tissaia. All I ask is that you do everything in your power to find me on the other side of whatever awaits us, safe and alive._ **

**_I promise._ **

The smaller woman seals the words with another kiss, and Yennefer tries to pour every ounce of emotion she's feeling into it. Tissaia chases her lips when she pulls back, and Yennefer can't help but smile at the action.

"I'm going to go," she whispers, "Because if I don't leave now I don't know if I'll be able to."

Tissaia reluctantly steps away and Yennefer immediately feels her absence like a physical blow.

"I'll see you soon," she says, and Yennefer nods. 

"See you soon," she echoes, before turning on her heel and heading for Ban Ard. It's almost painful to resist the urge to look back at Tissaia and steal one final glance, but she forces herself to keep going. 

She has a job to do. Tissaia is counting on her, and she doesn’t intend to let her down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter is half-written, but I am feeling rather ill as of this morning so it may take me a little longer to get it out depending on if this is just a weird cold or corona :p fingers crossed for the former.
> 
> Be safe, wear masks, social distance, and hopefully I'll be back soon with the finale!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter! The first 5k words or so are all plot...and then it devolves into quite a bit of smut, so if that's not your thing feel free to pretend it ends at the scene break :) Hope you enjoy!

Yennefer strides into Ban Ard like she owns the place. The guards at the gate had done a double-take when they saw here, but they made no move to intervene or prevent her from entering. It's lucky, since if they had searched her she would have had a difficult time explaining the vials she's got stashed under her skirts. Tissaia dosed her with the antidote when they left the inn, so she'll be safe regardless, but it won't end well for their plan if the remaining vials of antidote are confiscated before she can get them to the other mages.

She's never been here before, but she can feel the traces of chaos that linger in the halls. She lets her mind reach out, searching for any sign of a friendly presence, and she almost smiles when she feels Triss in a different wing.

It doesn't take her long to navigate the maze of hallways and knock on the door she can feel Triss behind. It swings open and Triss's mouth drops open.

"Yennefer!" She shoots a quick glance up and down the hall as if checking for any sign of Tissaia. "What...what are you doing here?"

"Can I come in?" Yennefer asks. She's sure Stregobor has ears in every centimetre of the place, but at least inside the room she'll feel a little less exposed. Triss steps aside and lets her enter, shutting the door behind them.

"Yennefer, what's going on?" When Yennefer hesitates, Triss waves a hand. "I've got counter charms in place. No matter what we discuss anyone who tries to listen will only hear trivial conversation about the weather and our outfits."

Yennefer lets out a breath. That makes things easier. She wasn't sure how she would get everything across to Triss if she had to speak in code the whole time.

"Tissaia sends her regards," she says, and Triss breaks into a relieved smile.

"So you found her, then? She's all right?"

Yennefer nods. "Yes. But she needs our help now."

She lays out the basics as quickly as possible: the dimeritium, the antidote, and the need to distribute it to any mages who they think may resist Stregobor. Triss looks thoughtful for a moment. 

"That shouldn't be difficult. I can recruit Sabrina to help. It will be easier for her and I to move freely about the area to get the antidote to everyone else. I imagine Stregobor has at least two mages tailing you to make sure you don't start any trouble."

"Oh, because you're so innocent no one would ever suspect you had it in you," Yennefer says, rolling her eyes. Triss just grins and shrugs.

"There are perks to being underestimated."

"So what, you want me to stay here while you do all the work?"

Yennefer isn't thrilled with the idea and she can see Triss doesn't like it either, but the other mage nods. "For now. I felt you when you entered the castle--I can use that mind link to keep you apprised of our progress. Stregobor is convening the combined Chapter and Council this afternoon, so we'll need to move quickly if you truly think there's potential for violence."

"Tissaia seemed to believe there is, and that's sufficient for me."

Triss eyes her curiously. "Since when do you trust Tissaia’s opinion about things?" Yennefer starts to protest but Triss cuts her off. "It doesn’t matter right now. But sometime when we're not facing possible death you'll have to tell me what exactly happened on your trip, because I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so willing to go along with someone else’s plan."

"Other people just tend to have stupid plans," Yennefer says, and Triss chuckles.

"Always difficult, aren't you?" She takes the vials that Yennefer hands her and tucks them in a pocket hidden in the lining of her dress. "I'll dose as many as can be found."

"How many do you think there will be?" Yennefer asks, trying to get a sense of what their odds will be if it comes to a fight. Triss frowns.

"Not as many as I would like. With Tissaia supposedly dead, many are reluctant to risk going against Stregobor. She's been the main one keeping him in check for so long that people are afraid of what will come next."

Yennefer hums. It makes sense. It's not what she wants to hear, but she can only hope that their numbers will be enough should it come to that.

"And does Stregobor suspect?"

"He's a paranoid fool," Triss scoffs. "He always suspects everyone is planning his demise. But whether he suspects that Tissaia is alive...that I don't know."

"And have there been rumours of any resistance? When he calls the meeting today?"

"No. I've done what I could to nip any rumours in the bud before they reached his ears. He likely anticipates something happening, but there hasn't been any concrete evidence to prove his suspicions founded." 

It's the best she can hope for. Not for the first time since parting ways, Yennefer curses Tissaia for leaving so much to chance. There are so many ways that this can go wrong--if Stregobor has planned for them, if he has something other than the dimeritium up his sleeve, if there aren't enough mages willing to fight alongside of them. The list goes on and on, and it leaves her grasping for any semblance of control she can muster. 

"All right. Let me know if you hear of anything new. I'll do my best to stay out of trouble," Yennefer says with a tone that makes it clear exactly how unimpressed she is with her lack of role.

"You do that." Triss leaves the room, the door closing behind her with a finality that sets Yennefer's nerves on edge. 

The sudden silence feels like a weight pressing down on her, and Yennefer starts to pace the room. It's torture to be stuck here and not know what's going on. Will Triss find success with the other mages? Is Stregobor still blissfully unaware that Tissaia is closing in on him? Does he really have powdered dimeritium with him that he's willing to use on other mages? Has Tissaia managed to successfully sneak in, or has she already been captured--or killed?

The questions ricochet around in her mind until she's nearly driving herself crazy from trying to predict the answers. Throwing herself onto the bed, Yennefer reaches out with her mind.

**_Tissaia?_ **

The reply is almost instantaneous.

**_Yennefer? What's wrong?_ **

Even having this faint connection to the other woman helps soothe her nerves, and Yennefer groans at how pathetic that makes her feel.

**_Yennefer?_ **

Now Tissaia sounds concerned. Yennefer closes her eyes and grounds herself in the knowledge that the other woman is okay, at least for the moment.

**_Everything is fine, Tissaia. I just..._ **

She hesitates. Saying it makes it more real, somehow, but she soldiers on.

**_I was just worried. And overthinking._ **

**_I’m okay, Yennefer._ **

Tissaia replies immediately, and Yennefer can feel the pulse of fondness and gratitude that sweeps through their connection as she speaks. 

**_Would it be better if we keep the connection? Even just a thread?_ **

The offer instantly eases some of the tightness in Yennefer's chest and she already feels like she can breathe again. 

**_Yes. Please._ **

**_You'd better be careful, or I'm going to start expecting manners all the time_** Tissaia teases. Yennefer doesn't even care. She would say please and thank you a thousand times a day for Tissaia, though she has no intention of ever admitting as much to the other woman.

The connection fades, the immediacy no longer there. But the remaining sliver is enough that Yennefer can feel Tissaia still alive and unharmed. She fixates on the faint but steady beating of the other woman's heart and tries to relax. Waiting has never really been in her skillset; she's more of a "rush in and sort of the consequences later" type of person, and she wishes she could throw caution to the wind and just do that now. But she knows that Tissaia is counting on her to hold back, at least for now, and it will cause more harm than good to go charging headlong into a battle that may yet be avoided.

The minutes tick by, each one feeling like a lifetime. At one point Yennefer reaches out to make sure that Triss is still okay. She can feel the healer's energy bright and moving around in close proximity to other mages, and she retreats. No sense in distracting her unnecessarily. 

She tries to center herself and pull her chaos into sharp focus within herself. If things don't go smoothly, she won't be of much use if her chaos explodes across everyone around her. It only takes a few moments before she gives up. Every time she tries to create order out of the chaos whirling inside of her, Tissaia's face flashes behind her eyelids. It's impossible to think of anything else, and she exhales noisily through her nose. 

Yennefer goes back to pacing the perimeter of the room, letting her fingers trail against the stone walls. This damned waiting is going to be the death of her. She's just about to check in with Triss again when she feels Tissaia reaching out.

**_Yennefer._ **

The tone is sharp and worried, almost breathless. Yennefer halts and tries to deepen their connection to understand what's going on.

**_I'm here, Tissaia._ **

**_Stregobor knows. He's got the dimeritium and a small army of human soldiers, you need to warn the others--_ **

The thought cuts off and Yennefer panics.

**_Tissaia! Where are you? I can come--_ **

Tissaia speaks over her, her tone bordering on frantic now.

**_Reserve your chaos, Yennefer. You'll need to help lead--_ **

An explosion shatters the connection, and Yennefer stumbles backwards, tripping over her own feet and falling to the floor. For a second she isn't sure if it was only in her head, something that happened to Tissaia, but then she notices the ringing in her ears and the way that a fine cloud of dust is shimmering in the air around her, knocked loose from the walls and ceiling. She pushes herself to her feet and staggers out into the hallway. 

Shouts echo from somewhere to her right, and she heads towards the sound. Remnants of someone else's chaos choke the air. Whatever the blast was, it was at least partially magical in origin, and Yennefer starts to run. She can't feel Tissaia any more, and the thought gives her an extra burst of speed.

She reaches out to Triss, checking that the other mage is okay.

**_I'm here, Yennefer._ ** The response is rapid, although Triss sounds a bit dazed.  **_What's going on?_ **

**_I don't know. But Tissaia was caught in it. I'm heading for the council chambers now, bring whoever you can. Tissaia said Stregobor has got human soldiers with him, but I don't know any more than that._ **

Yennefer cuts the connection as she feels Triss start to rally nearby mages. She trusts her to do what's needed to get them to the chambers.

It's difficult to see in front of her as she gets closer to the chambers. Dust swirls in thick clouds, and she can barely make out dark shadows and vague silhouettes of other people up ahead. She nearly trips over a few bodies on the floor and glances down just long enough to check that they're human. There are no marks on the bodies, and she wonders if they're Tissaia's handiwork.

She's still trying desperately to re-establish a connection with the other woman, but there's no response. In normal circumstances Yennefer finds the idea of praying almost insulting, the blind faith and hope of the act in direct opposition to her nature, but as she skids around a corner and is greeted with a wall of flames she finds herself muttering a few words to any being that will listen. 

She raises a hand and wills the fire into herself. It fights her, trying to escape her control and light everything around her ablaze, but she grits her teeth and forces it to calm until the red glow of her palms is the only indication of what she's taken on.

With the fire gone, she can see the massive double doors that lead into the chambers are hanging askew, one of them blown clean off its hinges. She runs inside, eyes scanning frantically for Tissaia, and she almost doubles over with relief when she sees the smaller woman in the center of the room.

Tissaia is surrounded by soldiers, and she's alternating between repelling them and killing the ones she's able to. Stregobor is nowhere in sight, but the dusting of metallic powder on Tissaia's clothes speaks to the fact that he's been involved one way or another.

"Tissaia!"

The woman turns at the sound of Yennefer's voice, sending another few soldiers flying backward. Yennefer runs for her, darting around the few who dare try to stop her, and her momentum sends her into Tissaia's arms. 

Tissaia catches her and Yennefer's eyes flash when she sees more soldiers running towards them. She raises a hand and a jet of flame engulfs the room, creating a whirlwind of fire that scorches everything but the ground they're standing on. 

A clench of her fist douses the inferno, and when she looks down at Tissaia her breath catches at the absolutely wanton look on the smaller woman's face. Yennefer can't resist ducking her head and kissing Tissaia fiercely, the relief of seeing her alive and the adrenaline of the battle combining in a heady rush. When they break apart, Tissaia glances around the room.

"There are more coming. This was just the first wave," she says, and Yennefer can already hear the sound of boots pounding down the halls in their direction.

"I can hold them off. You go after Stregobor."

Tissaia nods once. "Be safe."

She darts forward to press another quick kiss on Yennefer's lips before heading towards a small door set at the far end of the chambers. Yennefer tries to refocus on the task at hand. The flames she absorbed are nearly spent, but she should be able to take out at least a few more soldiers to buy Tissaia a little time.

The first soldiers crash into the room, swords drawn, and Yennefer directs a stream of fire at them. They duck for cover and retreat just far enough to be out of range. Yennefer bares her teeth, daring them to try to enter the chambers again. She can't hold them forever, but they don't know that.

Screams erupt from the hall, and Yennefer braces herself for whatever comes next. She says a silent thank you when Sabrina bursts through the group of soldiers, sending several of them flying through the air to land in broken heaps. Triss is close behind, along with a handful of other mages that Yennefer doesn't know.

"Couldn't let you have all the fun," Triss says with a grin. The mages all face the entry to the chambers as more soldiers congregate, and Yennefer waits. They're not going to just go away, they must be waiting for something. 

Sure enough, a second later one of the soldiers throws a circular object into the chambers. It hits the ground, bounces once, and then explodes in a cloud of powdered dimeritium. Yennefer coughs, but it doesn't feel any different than if she'd walked into a cloud of normal dust. The other mages seem to be faring the same, and they all return their attention to the doors. 

Soldiers stream through, clearly expecting their adversaries to be painfully incapacitated, and the first line is promptly obliterated. Yennefer can't help but grin when she hears the soldiers shouting about how it didn't work. 

Several of them try to retreat, but she advances towards the doors and raises a fist, reaching for the stones that line the ceiling in the hallway and bringing them down with a resounding crash. It effectively blocks the hall, leaving the soldiers trapped with the mages, and she can taste the fear in the air as they realize things are not going to go how they thought.

It doesn't take long after that to finish them off--one of the mages she doesn't know sustains a minor injury on their arm, but it's not severe enough to even merit healing. As the dust begins to settle, Yennefer catches her breath and looks over to where Triss is standing.

"Go." Triss knows what she's going to ask before she even opens her mouth, and she tips her head at the door Tissaia disappeared through. Yennefer doesn't need to be told twice, and she blows through the door at a run.

It opens into a narrow hall, at the end of which she sees a spiral stone staircase rising into a tower. Her boots click on the paving stones as she makes her way up the stairs, not pausing once to catch her breath. It feels like the staircase is neverending, but she finally reaches the top. 

She can hear voices as she steps out onto a platform. It offers a magnificent view of the surrounding countryside, but that's not what she's focused on. Tissaia is facing off against Stregobor, and she looks like power personified. There’s a smudge of dimeritium across one cheek and a few tendrils of hair have come loose and float about her face in the breeze as she advances on Strgobor, who’s got his back almost pressed up against the low brick wall that serves as a railing.

He launches a spell at Tissaia and she bats it away as if it's nothing. Yennefer shivers at the raw power on display, unable to help the want that courses through her veins at the sight of Tissaia in her element.

"How?" Stregobor sputters, his face apoplectic with rage. "The dimeritium should have killed you by now."

"My dear man," Tissaia says drolly, "Did you really think I would come here without a plan to counteract the dimeritium? After all our years trying to unseat each other you should know better."

Stregobor is about to say something when he notices Yennefer standing on the balcony with them. His eyes glint with malice and he sneers.

"I never needed the dimeritium. Your greatest weakness has always been that cursed half-elf girl. All these years spent trying to protect her and shield her from the Brotherhood's influence...and for what? The hopes of a quick fuck?"

Yennefer can  _ feel _ the rage radiating from Tissaia. She doesn't need to see the woman's face to know that her lips are pulled back in a snarl as she flicks a wrist and sends Stregobor flying back. He lands heavily against the balcony wall and slumps to the ground, unable to do anything but look up at Tissaia as she strides toward him.

"They won't let you get away with this. Centuries of your work gone, undone by a passing fancy," he gasps, fingers scrabbling for purchase against the stone. "Is she really worth losing everything?"

"Yes." The answer comes without hesitation, and Yennefer's heart leaps in her chest as Tissaia keeps talking. "The Brotherhood aren't going to say anything to me; not after you threatened us all with your foolish attempt at using dimeritium as a weapon. But even if they stripped me of everything...I would do it again in a heartbeat. For her." 

She knew Tissaia cared for her, but hearing it spoken aloud in such unquestionable terms floors Yennefer. She's always dreamt of being important to someone, and here's Tissaia, saying everything she could ever have hoped for and then some. 

Stregobor raises a hand, but this time it's directed at Yennefer and not Tissaia. Before he can do anything there's a resounding  _ crack _ and suddenly his hand is hanging limply, the wrist snapped and clean white bone visible to the air. A strangled scream escapes Strogobor’s lips as he clutches his now-useless arm to his chest.

"You may threaten me all you like," Tissaia says, her voice low and dangerous. "But if you so much as think to harm her, you will not live to see another day."

Yennefer starts. She hadn't realized Tissaia even knew she was on the observation deck with them. 

Stregobor's face is white and beads of sweat are visible on his forehead as he lets out a shriek and flings his good arm out. 

Quicker than Yennefer can comprehend, Tissaia has him dangling in mid-air, her hand clenching at her side and slowly cutting off his air. His eyes are wild as Tissaia moves him until he's suspended in the air over the side of the tower, nothing between him and death but the grip that Tissaia's chaos has on him.

"I'm giving you one last chance." Tissaia's voice is icy in a way that Yennefer has never heard before. The woman's fingers are twitching with the desire to release their hold on Stregobor, but she's holding back. "If you'll agree to be bound with dimeritium in penance for your crimes, I'll gladly bring you to the rest of the Brotherhood to carry out your sentence."

Stregobor's face twists with spite, and Yennefer knows the words are coming before he says them. 

"You and that little bitch deserve each other."

Tissaia tilts her head, seemingly pondering the statement, and then glances over her shoulder and meets Yennefer's eyes. The older woman's gaze is filled with so much affection and hope that Yennefer can't breathe from the force of it.

"Maybe we do."

And as Tissaia continues to hold Yennefer's eyes, she raises her clenched hand in the air and then releases it. Stregobor makes a little choking sound and then he's dropped from sight. Yennefer hears the screams from the base of the tower when he hits the ground, but she doesn't care. She only has eyes for the woman in front of her.

With three long strides she's close enough to take Tissaia in her arms and kiss the woman as if her life depends on it. In some ways she supposes it does. There will forever be a "before" and "after" in her life now, with regards to Tissaia. But as she dips her tongue into the wet heat of Tissaia's mouth and feels the way the smaller woman melts into her, she thinks that maybe she likes it that way.

She pulls back just enough to be able to look down at Tissaia, and a fond smile crosses her lips. It never ceases to surprise her that she's the taller of the two of them. Tissaia has always been larger than life, and Yennefer had never fully comprehended just how tiny she was until she suddenly had occasion to be this close to her.

"Everything below is taken care of?" 

Tissaia's voice is a little scratchy and breathless, and it makes Yennefer want to do unspeakable things to her. She idly wonders if the other woman would object to the idea of being taken up against the stone wall of the tower. It's a gorgeous thought. She can only imagine how perfect Tissaia would look with her head tipped back and those delicious wanton gasps falling from her lips as Yennefer's mouth worked between her legs. 

"Yes. Triss is finishing up with any remaining loose ends." Her tone is low and gravelly, and Yennefer delights in the way that Tissaia's eyes drop back to her lips at the sound. It's a kind of power that makes her heady and dizzy with the joy of it. She sighs when Tissaia steps back and puts a little more space between them.

"Later, love," Tissaia says softly, giving Yennefer a knowing look. "For now, let's make sure there aren't any remaining fires to put out or injuries to heal. And then perhaps a bath and a fresh bed are in order."

The last bit is said so slyly that Yennefer takes a second to process what Tissaia is insinuating. When her brain catches up, she nods so enthusiastically that it's probably embarrassing. Tissaia reaches out and brushes her thumb across Yennefer's cheek, wiping away a bit of ash.

"Come on then," she says roughly. "If we don't go now I'm going to have you right here where anyone could see."

She turns and starts down the stairs, but she pauses and reaches a hand back, offering it to Yennefer. The younger sorceress takes it and laces their fingers, squeezing lightly. She silently hopes that Triss has everything well under control. While food and a bath sound lovely, what she really wants is to get Tissaia into a bed when they don't have a life-or-death crisis looming over them. 

Yennefer's thoughts begin to wander into ideas of what, specifically, she wants to do to Tissaia when they're alone, and she nearly trips as she follows Tissaia down the stairs.

"Distracted?" Tissaia asks with a smirk.

Yennefer just smiles and shakes her head, already planning how to make her imaginings into reality. Tissaia had said she wasn't a blushing virgin, and she looks forward to testing exactly how true that statement is.

###

Yennefer paces impatiently in the room that she's sharing with Tissaia. It's been three days since Stregobor died, and they haven't had more than a few moments to themselves. The fallout of his actions has been impressive, to say the least, and Tissaia has been in meetings with the Chapter and Council from before sunrise until well after sundown each day. 

There are arguments revolving around what the do with the dimeritium Stregobor has amassed, how to handle the antidote that Tissaia created, and how to move forward. On the first day, Vilgefortz even had the nerve to question whether Tissaia should be held accountable for killing Stregobor without consulting with the rest of the Chapter beforehand. Yennefer had wanted to track him down and incinerate him on the spot when Tissaia related that particular conversation.

"The conniving little snake," she muttered, already looking for her boots so that she could go find him. "I would put more stock in his opinion if he hadn't been cowering in his quarters once he got wind of the dimeritium."

A hand on her shoulder had made her pause, and she'd seen Tissaia watching her with some amusement. The Chapter was taking a short break and she'd come to find the younger woman to update her, clearly not expecting her to take the happenings so personally.

"There's no need to murder the man on my account. He'll bluster, but the Chapter will defer to me, at least in this."

The absolute confidence with which Tissaia spoke had been incredibly sexy, and Yennefer had stepped closed with the intent of coming up with a different way to occupy their time if she wasn't allowed to kill Vilgefortz, but then Tissaia had frowned.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, "They're reconvening."

Yennefer had pouted but waved a hand. "Go. They can't do anything without you there. I'll just be here alone...perhaps I'll have to find some way to keep myself occupied until your return." 

Tissaia had licked her lips and looked like she wanted nothing more than to stay, but she'd winced and even Yennefer could feel the insistence behind the magical call the other woman was receiving.

"I'll be back later, if they don't take all night," Tissaia said. "And then perhaps you can show me some of the ways you've found to entertain yourself."

Yennefer had smirked, her mind already conjuring plans for the evening, and had watched until the door shut behind Tissaia, leaving her alone once more. She'd been hopeful that they might finally get their time together, but by the time the moon was high above Ban Ard she could sense that the Brotherhood were still debating with no intention of stopping any time soon. 

She'd fallen asleep by herself that night, and for the two succeeding nights as well. It was infuriating, to be so close to Tissaia and not even be able to have the small moments of intimacy they'd shared on the road. She hated that the Brotherhood was inept to the point of self-destruction without Tissaia's leadership, and she fantasized about swooping into their fancy meetings and stealing Tissaia away so that she could ravage the woman the way she'd been dreaming of.

But she knew Tissaia felt an obligation to ensure that the Brotherhood wouldn't actively harm any of the mages under their purview, and so she'd contained her impulses. Now, though, it's looking like it might turn into a fourth night spent without Tissaia, and her self control is wearing thin.

Yennefer flops onto the bed, wishing more than anything that Tissaia could appear next to her and sate the burning need that's been eating her alive the past few days. She reaches out with her mind and finds Tissaia. The other woman is listening to arguments related to the storage of the remaining dimeritium, and Yennefer feels a sharp jolt of arousal as she hears the command in Tissaia's voice as she dictates the flow of the conversation. 

A brilliant idea occurs to her, and a devilish smile crosses her lips as she lets one of her hands trail down her own body. If she can't have Tissaia in person, then she can at least let the other woman know what she's missing.

She keeps her thoughts trained on Tissaia, projecting the sensations coursing through her out to the other mage as she slips her hand under her dress. She's not wearing undergarments, and she finds herself already wet at just the thought of Tissaia. She drags a finger around her opening, collecting some of the slick before tracing a light circle around her clit. The pleasure in instantaneous, and she whimpers at the neediness that's taking over. It’s ridiculous how close she is after only a few seconds, and she knows it’s not going to take much.

**_Yennefer._ **

Her name flashes through her mind, but she doesn't pause in her ministrations. She doesn't bother to hide the breathiness in her voice when she replies.

**_Yes, Tissaia?_ **

**_You need to stop._ **

The tone makes her press a little harder, and her hips jump into her hand in search of more.

**_I told you I would find a way to entertain myself_ ** she says, bringing her free hand up to play with a breast. She pinches the nipple and savors the swirl of want that's curling in her stomach.  **_I just thought you might want some entertainment as well, in the midst of your boring meetings._ **

**_Yennefer, stop._ **

Tissaia's voice sounds strained, and Yennefer grins. She can feel the conflict in the other woman, the way that she's desperately trying to follow the thread of conversation with the other mages while simultaneously talking to Yennefer. But Tissaia could cut their connection and wall her mind off if she truly wanted this to stop, so Yennefer keeps going, trusting the other woman to put a halt to her antics if that's really what she wants.

She shifts the hand on her clit down to her entrance and dips inside with just the pads of her fingers. 

**_Gods, Tissaia, I'm so wet just from the thought of you._ **

The answering moan she hears in her head makes her clit pulse, and she slips two fingers inside.

**_I wish you were here with me, touching me. I haven't been able to think of anything else._ **

**_Yennefer._ **

This time there's no warning; her name sounds like a prayer coming out of Tissaia's mouth in that breathy tone, and she can sense the bottomless want in the other woman. It makes her preen a little, enjoying the knowledge of just how desirable Tissaia finds her.

**_You're the most gorgeous thing I've ever laid eyes on_ ** Tissaia murmurs, and it makes Yennefer moan as she begins to move her fingers.  **_It took everything in me not to take you against that tower balcony, audience be damned._ **

The fact that Tissaia had thought about it too makes Yennefer smile. 

**_You should have_ ** she pants, fingers moving more quickly.  **_Seeing you like that...gods._ ** Her body trembles at the memory of Tissaia with her chaos wrapped around Stregobor's throat, the sheer power on display as she turned to look at the younger woman.  **_It wouldn't have taken much._ **

Her body is careening towards the edge already, and she tries to slow down, not wanting this to be over so soon, but Tissaia stops her.

**_No. Don't hold back. I want you to fall apart imagining all of the things I'm going to do to you when I see you next._ **

A series of rapid images are projected into her mind: Tissaia on her back with Yennefer straddling her face and holding onto the headboard; Tissaia fucking her from behind while she's bent over the small desk in the corner of their room; Tissaia ever so slowly pushing into her with her whole hand, Yennefer's inner walls clenching and convulsing around her.

It's the last image that tips her over the edge. She lets her thumb brush against her clit and all it takes is a few strokes for her to cry out, head tipping back into the pillows as her whole body tightens and then releases in a rush of pleasure. 

**_Good girl._ **

The words draw a few trembling aftershocks from her body, and heat suffuses Yennefer's cheeks at the reaction she has to Tissaia praising her.  _ That _ is definitely something to investigate further, but she sets it aside for the moment so that she can bask in the way her whole body feels loose and languid now. 

**_You continue to surprise,_ ** she says with a smirk.  **_Here I thought I would be the one running the show._ **

She relishes the laugh she receives from Tissaia in response and lets her eyes close. She's missed this easy connection, the affection in their banter. 

**_I'm afraid I really do have to focus on this meeting now,_ ** Tissaia replies, and it's clear that she really does regret it. Yennefer is feeling far more magnanimous about Tissaia's participation in these meetings now that she's been able to knock her arousal down a few notches, and she doesn't protest.

**_Just don't forget about me here...all alone in this great big bed. All night long._ **

She feels the hunger that wells in Tissaia as she says the words, and she smiles to herself. Maybe this will finally be enough to get the woman back to their bedchambers for a night.

**_I'll see you tonight._ **

Tissaia severs their connection, but Yennefer can still feel the lingering emotions that had been so powerfully present in their bond. She rolls over onto her side, intending to take a nap, but she quickly finds that her cursed brain has other ideas. 

The images that Tissaia showed her keep filtering through her brain on repeat, along with several others that Yennefer has come up with on her own. Within minutes she finds herself just as worked up as she was at the start of the day, and she throws an arm over her eyes and groans. If Tissaia doesn't manage to come to bed with her tonight, she thinks she might combust. 

She sits up and scrubs a hand across her face. There are still hours to go before Tissaia can even think of calling for an end to the day's meetings. The time will go faster if she has something to occupy herself, and she decides to make a mental checklist. A slow smile begins to spread across her face as a plan starts to form. 

She pushes herself off the bed, suddenly feeling very invigorated. If she hurries, there should be time to arrange everything. She smirks. Tissaia has no idea what's coming.

###

Yennefer is just finishing lighting the candles when she feels Tissaia approaching their room. The door opens, and Yennefer straightens and turns to look at her. The flickering candlelight casts stunning shadows across Tissaia's face, reflecting in her eyes and making her cheekbones look even sharper than usual.

"What's all this?"

Yennefer smiles at the smaller woman's confusion.

"I thought you might appreciate a bit of respite from the chaos that's consumed your waking hours these last few days."

And it's true. She wants to make sure that Tissaia is well cared for; the woman is more than capable of a great many things, but Yennefer has a reasonable suspicion that taking care of herself doesn't rank very high on Tissaia's list of priorities.

To that end, she's amassed a small collection of amenities in their room. She managed to harangue one of the servants until they agreed to bring a bath to the room, and she'd scented the water with sage and citrus oils. There's a platter of food resting on the desk in case Tissaia hasn't eaten (and Yennefer's willing to bet that she hasn't), and the bed is freshly made. The candles were the final touch, lighting the room with a soothing glow that makes the whole scene feel almost dreamlike.

"Who knew there was such sweetness hiding under that gruff exterior," Tissaia murmurs with a smile, closing the distance between them so that she can give Yennefer a soft kiss. "A bath sounds absolutely divine." She turns and offers her back to Yennefer, looking over her shoulder with just the barest hint of a smirk. "Care to help me out of this dress?"

It takes a few more tries than usual for Yennefer to get the fastenings undone. Her fingers feel over-large and fumbling, and the contented sigh that Tissaia gives as the tight bindings loosen makes the younger sorceress go weak in the knees.

When the dress is finally undone, Yennefer slides it from Tissaia's shoulders. It pools around the woman's feet, and she steps out of it and makes her way to the bath. Yennefer's mouth is dry as she takes in the expanse of silky skin now available for her eyes to feast on.

"I wouldn't have imagined you to forgo underclothes." She's proud that her voice only shakes a little. "It appears you really are a woman of many mysteries."

Tissaia pauses as she steps into the tub. "Oh, I usually do prefer underclothes. But mine became rather... _ uncomfortable _ as the day wore on, courtesy of a particularly interesting conversation I had."

She settles into the tub with a pleased hiss, sinking down in the water until it comes up to her neck. Yennefer tries to pick her jaw off the ground. The thought of Tissaia being so turned on by their brief earlier connection that she ruined her underclothes and had to remove them makes her fingers itch to touch the other woman. She makes her way over to the tub and starts to kneel on the ground next to it.

"The tub is plenty large enough if you'd like to join me."

She freezes as Tissaia speaks. Then she's scrambling to get out of her clothes as her mind catches up to the offer, and she practically falls into the tub in her eagerness. 

Everything about how she's behaving now is so different from how she's ever been with another lover; normally she refuses to let the other party gain even the illusion of the upper hand. If this was anyone else, she would have made them wait, maybe disrobed and then circled the tub a time or two to give them ample time to admire her body before sliding into the water with them like a succubus. 

But because this is Tissaia, for some reason she doesn't mind that all of her intentions for the night can be disrupted with a single sentence. How could she ever be upset about that when it ends with her in a tub with Tissaia, not a scrap of clothing to be found between them?

She scoots so that her back is against the side of the tub and then urges Tissaia to turn in the water so that the smaller woman's back is pressed to her front. Tissaia sighs at the contact, leaning back into Yennefer with a smile. 

Yennefer's arms encircle Tissaia, holding her gently, and they rest that way for a few minutes, not saying a word. But eventually, the feeling of having Tissaia in her arms becomes more than she can handle, and Yennefer finds her hands wandering across the other woman's body. 

One hand skates across the flat plane of her stomach. The smaller woman moans as Yennefer slides her hand up to cup one of Tissaia's breasts. She loves the weight of it in her hand, loves even more how she can feel the nipple tighten under her palm as Tissaia arches up into her. Her fingers roll the nub, pinching lightly until Tissaia's breath comes in hot pants against the curve of Yennefer's neck.

This wasn't the plan at all, but she can't resist when Tissaia is making these tiny little mewling sounds and trying desperately to get closer. It's mind-numbingly hot.

She switches to Tissaia's other breast and lets her free hand drag down the smaller woman's side until it's resting on her hipbone. Her fingers stroke there for a second, but Tissaia twists her hips in a bid to get them to move where she wants them and Yennefer smiles.

**_And you said I was the needy one._ **

Tissaia doesn't reply, and Yennefer chuckles against the side of her head as she slowly lets her fingers drift down to skim over the delicate skin of her inner thighs before coming up to brush against her cunt. She can feel that Tissaia is absolutely drenched for her. Without any preamble, she slides a finger in, and she moans at how Tissaia immediately clenches around her, trying to keep her inside.

She pulls out and re-enters her with two fingers, relishing how Tissaia is already writhing against her and trying to drive her hips down onto her fingers. She works her up gradually, trying to memorize each and every sound that the other woman makes. It's not long before she can feel Tissaia tightening around her fingers, and she takes the hand that's not inside the smaller woman and splays it against her lower stomach, applying just a hint of pressure. Muscles jump underneath her fingers and she adjusts the angle of her other hand so that she can bring her thumb up to press against Tissaia's clit. 

**_Gods, Yennefer--_ **

It's all Tissaia manages to say before she comes apart in Yennefer's arms, trembling and shaking. Yennefer keeps moving her fingers at a slower pace, drawing out the orgasm as long as possible. 

She gently pulls out when she feels Tissaia turn and bury her face in her collarbone. When Tissaia's breathing evens out, Yennefer straightens and dislodges the smaller woman from her chest. 

Tissaia makes a noise of protest that's so adorably endearing that Yennefer almost relents. Instead, she nudges Tissaia until she stands up. She admires the view for a moment, watching the way that droplets of water run down the other woman's body and imagining tracing their path with her tongue. 

Shaking herself out of her thoughts, Yennefer exits the tub, not bothering to dry her own body as she walks to the bed. She looks over her shoulder and beckons for Tissaia to join her.

"Come here. I want you on the bed."

Tissaia comes toward her, not a hint of shyness at her bare body, and Yennefer reaches for her as soon as she's close enough, pulling her in for a searing kiss. It's a mess of tongues and teeth, wet and heated in a way that makes Yennefer's toes curl. Tissaia's hands start to wander and Yennefer takes a small step back.

"I'm not done with you yet."

"Oh?" The look on Tissaia's face is open and wanting. "What did you have in mind?"

"You. On your knees. While I take you from behind." The words leave Yennefer as a growl, and she delights in the way she can see Tissaia swallow hard. "Is that amenable to you?" 

She says the last bit in a playful, mocking tone, but she meets Tissaia's eyes. If the other woman doesn't want this particular thing, there are an infinite number of other fantasies Yennefer would love to bring to life. 

But Tissaia doesn't seem at all opposed--far from it. Her breathing is coming quicker than it was a second ago, and she slides onto the bed, propping herself on her elbows and knees and turning her head to give Yennefer a coy smile.

"Like this?"

" _ Exactly  _ like that," Yennefer sighs, climbing onto the bed and maneuvering herself until her knees are on either side of Tissaia's. She feels more than hears the groan that rumbles through the smaller woman as she begins to move her hands. 

She keeps them in relatively safe locations for several long minutes, kneading at the small of Tissaia's back and then up to her shoulders before sliding back down until her palms are resting just at the top of her ass. Tissaia pushes back into the touch ever so slightly, and Yennefer squeezes. 

**_You're stunning._ ** She smiles at the shiver that runs through Tissaia as she speaks.  **_Gods, I can't stop thinking about earlier._ **

**_You'll have to be more specific, darling_ ** comes the panted response, and Yennefer loves how wrecked Tissaia sounds.

She sends back a brief flash of the final scene Tissaia had teased her with, and she revels in the feeling of the other woman's body going pliant beneath her, a low moan escaping her lips.

**_I keep wondering what you would look like coming around my hand._ ** She keeps her tone intentionally casual, as if she and Tissaia are discussing the weather and not how she wants to fuck her.

Tissaia shudders and arches her back, searching for more contact.  **_Why don't you find out?_ **

The way she purrs the words makes Yennefer bite her lip. Still, she wants to see how far she can push this, so she takes her time. She starts with her mouth, making sure she's acquainted with every inch of Tissaia's back. Tissaia keeps making tiny needy whimpers, her whole body trembling with the effort of keeping herself up on her elbows. When Yennefer nips at a particularly sensitive spot in the small of her back, her arms give out and she lets her face fall to the bed. 

Pleased with the way Tissaia melts under her touch, Yennefer slides one hand up Tissaia's back, holding the woman in place while she finally lets her other hand dip between Tissaia's legs. This whole thing is obviously working for Tissaia, as the wetness that greets Yennefer's fingers draws a gasp from the younger sorceress. She lets her fingers wander, exploring the sensitive flesh and skating around Tissaia's clit once, twice, before plunging inside.

Tissaia cries out, her hips jerking back and the blankets on the bed fisted in her hands. Yennefer keeps her pace slow, letting her fingers press and search against Tissaia's walls until the woman is begging for more.

**_Please, Yen, I need--_ ** Tissaia's voice breaks as Yennefer lets her thumb press against her clit. Part of her wants to tease Tissaia for being so impatient after lecturing the younger woman about that very thing so many times over the years, but it's not worth the energy. Not when she has Tissaia in her arms, ready and waiting for whatever she can give her.

She adds a third finger, slowing her pace when she feels Tissaia tighten.

**_Not yet._ **

She infuses the words with just a hint of command, and Tissaia nods. The smaller woman's face is pressed into the mattress, and the expression on her face is somewhere between ecstasy and agony at trying to stave off her orgasm.

When she's sure that Tissaia isn't going to come, Yennefer begins to move again. It's easy enough to add her pinky finger to the mix--Tissaia is absolutely dripping with slick arousal, and she's moaning with every thrust.

**_More._ **

Yennefer glances down at her hand and frowns a little, uncertain for the first time since they started.

**_Are you sure? I don't want to hurt--_ **

**_I'm so fucking sure. Don't you dare stop._ **

Tissaia moves her hips back against Yennefer's hand to prove her point, and the younger sorceress nods, her concern evaporating into pure want. She tucks her thumb in and carefully presses forward. Her fingers slip in more easily than she would have imagined, but her knuckles catch at Tissaia's opening. The smaller woman is panting, and she grinds her hips back as Yennefer maintains a steady, even pressure. 

**_Gods, you look so incredible._ ** Yennefer is watching Tissaia with awe, and the words draw a whine from the smaller woman. She presses back against Yennefer's hand a bit harder, and that's all it takes--Yennefer almost tips over the edge herself as she feels her whole hand slide inside Tissaia up to the wrist. Tight, clinging heat surrounds her, and she experimentally wiggles her fingers just the tiniest bit. It draws a sob from Tissaia, whose whole body is strung tight in a way that Yennefer has never seen before.

**_Please please please--_ **

She's not sure if Tissaia even realizes she's begging, but she can't imagine denying her anything right now.

**_Let go, Tissaia. I've got you._ **

The words unleash something inside Tissaia and she lets out a wordless scream as the tension finally snaps. Her body convulses and a flood of warmth coats Yennefer's hand and wrist, running down over her thighs. White-hot pleasure suffuses every inch of Yennefer's brain and she realizes Tissaia is projecting what she's feeling. It's too much, and an unexpected orgasm rips through the younger woman and draws a strangled cry from her throat. 

She's panting hard, and she trembles with the effort it takes to stay upright. But Tissaia is still shaking, and Yennefer is determined to hold her through it, tiny movements drawing the waves out for as long as possible. Eventually, Tissaia's body calms, and the only sound in the room is their mingled breathing.

Yennefer carefully pulls her hand free, shivering at the whimper that leaves Tissaia. She wipes her hand on the edge of the blanket before shifting and crawling up the bed, pulling Tissaia with her and arranging their limbs until the smaller woman in nestled into her.

**_Was that alright?_ ** Now that the heat of the moment is gone, Yennefer needs to hear that she did well, that this was what Tissaia wanted and needed from her.

**_More than alright._ ** Tissaia sounds dreamy and like she hasn't quite recovered, but her eyes are clear when she sits up a little so that she can see Yennefer's face. She presses a kiss to her lips, and Yennefer sighs into the contact. It's remarkably chaste considering what they've just been doing, but it's also perfect. 

**_Thank you._ **

Yennefer blinks at Tissaia. "For what? I feel like I should be the one thanking you after that."

"For coming to find me." Tissaia's voice is soft, and she reaches up a hand to cup Yennefer's cheek. "For staying. For being here with me now."

Yennefer closes her eyes and hums, just enjoying the tenderness in Tissaia's voice and touch for a moment before speaking. "I don't think I could ever have done anything different. You've always had me, Tissaia. I'm just a bit daft and didn't realize it."

Tissaia chuckles and her eyes crinkle at the corners as she gives Yennefer a fond look. "All the more reason to be thankful that you finally figured it out, then."

She settles back down, her head resting on Yennefer's bare chest. Her fingers draw shapes across the skin, making the younger woman twitch when they hit a ticklish spot. She grumbles and swats the hand away, but she can't hide the way her lips tick up at the edges when Tissaia shifts and wraps her arm firmly around Yennefer's middle.

"Now that I have, I don't think I'll ever want to let you out of my sight again."

Tissaia angles her face up and cracks one eye open.

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"I just..." she hasn't really let herself think this far into the future yet. Ever since she found Tissaia there's been the threat of imminent death looming over them, and now that it's not there she finds she's worried. What if Tissaia doesn't want the same things that she does?

"What will this look like? Once you're done here, I mean." She forces herself to say the words, bracing herself for possible rejection. But it doesn't come. Instead, Tissaia just shrugs.

"I imagine it can look like whatever we want it to look like. I'm still needed at Aretuza, but I would never dream of forcing you to stay there against your will. But we have portals at our disposal, and once I finalize negotiations with the Brotherhood there won't be anyone who will question my movements--or yours."

It warms Yennefer's heart and eases her worry to hear that Tissaia has already been thinking about this. She can handle figuring it out as they go along, she just needs to know that they'll be able to do it together.

"Well then," she murmurs, brushing her lips against Tissaia's temple, "I suppose we can sort out those decisions as we come across them."

Tissaia hums and nods, already half asleep. Yennefer stays awake a little while longer, just listening to the sound of the smaller woman's breathing. She can't quite comprehend everything that's changed in the last fortnight. If anyone had tried to tell her when Triss first portalled into Rinde that she would not only find Tissaia alive, but would end up curled up in bed with her, she would have laughed them out of the town. 

But she can't envision anything better now that she's here, and she sinks a little deeper into the pillows and smiles. She'll deny it if anyone ever asks her publicly, but she thinks she's found a soulmate of sorts in Tissaia. They're a match in every possible way. 

She's never understood when people talk about their excitement for what the future might bring. She'd been convinced that life had no more to offer her--that she'd explored everything there was to explore, seen everything there was to see. But now it's like a whole new world has opened up before her, and it's filled with options that she'd never dreamed could be possible. Not for her. 

She lets her eyes drift closed and inhales the soothing scent of Tissaia's hair. She's spent all these years desperately trying to prove that she didn't need anyone else in order to be happy. But now, with Tissaia lying against her and their breathing falling into sync, it's finally clicked that she doesn't have to do this on her own. 

Content in the knowledge that they'll find a way to make it work, she lets the easy rhythm of Tissaia's breath lull her to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp. There you have it. The end of a rapidly-written Tissaia/Yennefer novella lol. It's been a blast and I have deep love for these characters, and much appreciation for all of you who have read, left kudos, and commented! 
> 
> If you have any thoughts or prompts you're interested in seeing me tackle, let me know in the comments--I am a terrible millennial and have no social media, so if there are any burning prompts from tumblr that strike your fancy clue me in here!
> 
> Till next time :)

**Author's Note:**

> The remainder of the chapters will involve both women (both together and separate), so if you were sad to not get a glimpse of Tissaia until the very end the rest of this fic will likely be far more enjoyable lol. I'm having fun with these characters and should have the next chapter in a day or two if I can maintain my current writing pace =)


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